"'What's that, you jabbering idiot!' he roars, in his brutal way.
"'Captain Brand and Monsieur Mortlake seem like as twin dogs,' I reply; 'you might change names with our haughty captain, and no one be the wiser, save that he has the bel air which you want—the polish, the courtesy, which those of the mob can never learn.'
"'Curse him! I have as good blood in my veins as he has any day!' hisses the furious voice of my envious Mortlake.
"Then he turns sour and silent, and is very poor company. I sing chansonettes to the moon; I whistle operas; I talk to my horse; he takes no notice; I rally him upon his temper, and he swears madly at me.
"So I light my cigar and smoke for company until we reach the great Castle Brand, which towers like a vast cathedral under the moon.
"Mademoiselle, a magnificent statue waits him at the door. Mademoiselle remembers the interview. Enough! My tripping tongue need not rehearse the scene.
"Back comes Monsieur Mortlake, devil-possessed, and overwhelms me with a terrible curse.
"I laugh at his slow-stepping wit.
"I have seen a pretty possibility for monsieur, even while mademoiselle is speaking.
"'Stupid Englishman!' I cry, as we ride across the Waaste, 'don't you see that you might get this fine English castle and estate to yourself some day, if you could personate brave Captain Brand?'