"Hum!" said Barnabas.

"Now, to starve, sir, is unpleasant; thus I, having a foolish,

though very natural, dread of it, poach rabbits that I may exist. I

possess also an inborn horror of rags and dirt, therefore

I--exchanged this coat and breeches from a farmhouse, the folk being

all away in the fields, and though they are awkward, badly-made

garments, still beggars--and--"

"Thieves!" added Barnabas.

"And thieves, sir, cannot always be choosers, can they?"

"Then you admit you are a thief?"

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Here the fugitive glanced at Barnabas with a wry smile.

"Sir, I fear I must. Exchange is no robbery they say; but my rags

were so very ragged, and these garments are at least wearable."

"You have also been a--great valet, I understand?"

"And have served many gentlemen in my time."

"Then you probably know London and the fashionable world?"

"Yes, sir," said the man, with a sigh.

"Now," pursued Barnabas, "I am given to understand, on the authority

of a Person of Quality, that to dress properly is an art."

The fugitive nodded. "Indeed, sir, though your Person of Quality

should rather have called it the greatest of all the arts."

"Why so?"

"Because by dress it is possible to make--something out of nothing!"

"Explain yourself."

"Why, there was the case of young Lord Ambleside, a nobleman

remarkable for a vague stare, and seldom saying anything but 'What!'

or 'Dey-vil take me!' though I'll admit he could curse almost

coherently--at times. I found him nothing but a lord, and very crude

material at that, yet in less than six months he was made."

"Made?"

"Made, sir," nodded the fugitive. "I began him with a cravat, an

entirely original creation, which drew the approval of Brummell

himself, and, consequently, took London by storm, and I continued

him with a waistcoat."

"Not a--white one?" Barnabas inquired.

"No, sir, it was a delicate pink, embroidered with gold, and of

quite a new cut and design, which was the means of introducing him

to the notice of Royalty itself. The Prince had one copied from it,

and wore it at a state reception. And I finished him with a pair of

pantaloons which swept the world of fashion clean off its legs, and

brought him into lasting favor with the Regent. So my Lord was made,

and eventually I married him to an heiress."

"You married him?"

"That is to say, I dictated all his letters, and composed all his

verses, which speedily brought the affair to a happy culmination."

"You seem to be a man of many and varied gifts?"

"And one--without a character, sir."

"Nevertheless," said Barnabas, "I think you are the very man I

require."

"Sir," exclaimed the fugitive, staring, "sir?"

"And therefore," continued Barnabas, "you may consider yourself

engaged."




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