I need not have feared recognition if I had thought for a minute, for I was something of a dandy in my way. My legs were encased in gray breeches buttoned tightly from the knee to the ankle. My coat, with its long tails, was of blue cloth, with brass buttons, and the large velvet collar reached up behind, almost swamping my ears. My waist-coat had wide lapels (pulled outside the coat), and was made of cream-colored satin. My stock was of clean white linen, and my hat, that was a trifle too small, would persist in getting rakishly over my left eye, as if it understood that I was careless, happy, and defiant of bad fortune.
I believe I could write pages of descriptions of all I saw and felt on this journey, but I am really most anxious myself to reach the more interesting part of it, and so resist temptation. We arrived at Oxford in the late afternoon. I was delighted at the glimpses of the old college buildings and the students playing at cricket in the fields, while through the trees I could see that we were near a river, as now and then the water would flash into sight.
When we reached the inn at which we intended to stop, Monsieur de Brissac, who had arrived already, sent for me to come to his room. I was fully prepared to carry up his box or to tend him in any way, as befitted my supposed position; but as soon as I entered the apartment he greeted me with a smile.
"Monsieur le Marquis," he said, "be seated."
A queer tingling thrilled me as he called me by that title.
"I will explain to you," Monsieur de Brissac went on, "that in London there are a large number of us who have been forced to take up residence outside of France. Your own story is so remarkable that although, believe me, I myself do not doubt it, it would not be best to tell it to every one who might listen. Therefore, believe me, forget, as you have said, that you were an American, put outside from you the idea, above all things, that you have escaped from a prison of the English, and indeed, if possible, show little knowledge of the tongue. It is a frightful speech at the best, and racks the throat and ears. To people whom you meet you are Jean Amédée de Brienne, son of le Marquis Henri Amédée Lovalle de Brienne; your story is that you have come to England from America" (he lowered his voice and looked over his shoulder) "to join us. Ah, we need young blood and swords."
"But, Monsieur le Marquis," I interrupted, intending to blurt out the truth and abide by the consequences, "there is just one thing I—"
Monsieur de Brissac playfully touched me on the shoulder. "Never mind about that now," he said; "you will understand everything in a short time. Perhaps some day your grandfather's great estates shall belong to you, as they must in the sight of God and the saints, and as the blessed Church allows it to be true. Then," he exclaimed—"then we will whip this canaille, lash these dogs into shape, or drown them as they drowned us, eh? Ah, yes, that we will do. The bubble will soon burst, and they will be glad to take our crumbs. But no more for to-day. To-morrow you shall be informed. I know that you are to be trusted, monsieur. Say nothing. It is my pleasure to serve you. Be cautious with others."
Of course this touched me, and I do not doubt I showed it as I bowed myself out of Monsieur de Brissac's apartments, that were the best the place afforded. Our conversation had been held in French, of course, and in setting this down I have condensed it somewhat, but the gist of what he said is here.
I had begun to grow very much attached to my kind patron, for such I call him in this recounting; and I also was much taken with the elder man, the Marquis de Senez; but he was not so frank or, if I may say it, so simple as the other.