employ of France, have not
stepped in and arrested him. My evidence might bring him to trial, but
it would never convict him. Once liberated, he would begin all over
again, meaning that I also would have to start in at a new beginning.
So I have let him proceed to the end, and in doing so I shall save him
in spite of himself. You see, I have a bit of sentiment."

Hildegarde could have reached over and kissed his hand.

"Why didn't he tell this to me?" cried the admiral. "Why didn't he
tell me? I would have helped him."

"To his death, perhaps," grimly. "For the money was only a means, not
an end. The great-grandson of Napoleon: well, he will never rise from
his obscurity. And sometime, when the clouds lift from his brain, he
will remember me. I have seen in your American cottages the motto
hanging on the walls--_God Bless Our Home_. Mr. Breitmann will place
my photograph beside it and smoke his cigarette in peace."

And this whimsical turn caused even the admiral to struggle with a
smile. He was a square, generous old sailor. He stretched his hand
across the table. M. Ferraud took it, but with a shade of doubt.

"You are a good man, Mr. Ferraud. I'm terribly disappointed. All my
life I have been goose-chasing for treasures, and this one I had set my
heart on. You've gone about it the best you could. If you had told me
from the start there wouldn't have been any fun."

"That is it," eagerly assented M. Ferraud. "Why should I spoil your
innocent pleasure? For a month you have lived in a fine adventure, and
no harm has befallen. And when you return to America, you will have an
unrivaled story to tell; but, I do not think you will ever tell all of
it. He will have paid in wretchedness and humiliation for his
inheritance. And who has a better right to it? Every coin may
represent a sacrifice, a deprivation, and those who gave it freely,
gave it to the blood. Is it sometimes that you laugh at French
sentiment?"

"Not in Frenchmen like you," said the admiral gravely.

"Good! To men of heart what matters the tongue?"

"Poor young man!" sighed Laura. "I am glad he has found it. Didn't I
wish him to have it?"

"And you knew all this?" said Cathewe into the ear of the woman he
loved.

Thinly the word came through her lips: "Yes."

Cathewe's chin sank into his collar and he stared at the crumbs on the
cloth.

"But what meant this argument with the drivers?" asked Coldfield.

"Yes! I had