"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?"
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."