“I’m not fit for either. I don’t want them. Nothing less than the title, my lord.”
“It’s only a title you want?” asked the nobleman, after a pause, and as if suddenly impressed with some idea that promised to serve him. “You say you’re not particular? Would that of a Count satisfy you?”
“How could your lordship procure that? There are no Counts in England?”
“But there are in France.”
“I know it—a good many of them; more than have means to support the titles.”
“Never mind the means. The title will secure them to a man of your talents. You may be one of the number. A French Count is still a Count. Surely that title would suit you?”
Swinton seemed to reflect.
“Perhaps it would. You think your lordship could obtain it for me?”
“I am sure of it. He who has the power to bestow such distinctions is my intimate personal friend. I need not tell you it is France’s ruler.”
“I know it, my lord.”