aged, the
moon broke out, and the light fell full on the pale, careworn face of
the unconscious sufferer.

"This face seems not unfamiliar to me, though sadly changed," said the
stranger to himself; and bending towards the girl, who had sunk on her
knees, and was chafing her father's hand, he asked, "My child, what is
your father's name?"

The child continued her task, too absorbed to answer.

The stranger put his hand on her shoulder, and repeated the question.

"Digby," answered the child, almost unconsciously; and as she spoke the
man's senses began to return. In a few minutes more he had sufficiently
recovered to falter forth his thanks to the stranger. But the last took
his hand, and said, in a voice at once tremulous and soothing, "Is it
possible that I see once more an old brother in arms? Algernon Digby, I
do not forget you; but it seems England has forgotten."

A hectic flush spread over the soldier's face, and he looked away from
the speaker as he answered,--

"My name is Digby, it is true, sir; but I do not think we have met
before. Come, Helen, I am well now,--we will go home."

"Try and play with that great dog, my child," said the stranger,--"I
want to talk with your father."

The child bowed her submissive head, and moved away; but she did not
play with the dog.

"I must reintroduce myself formally, I see," quoth the stranger. "You
were in the same regiment with myself, and my name is L'Estrange."

"My Lord," said the soldier, rising, "forgive me that--"

"I don't think that it was the fashion to call me 'my lord' at the
mess-table. Come, what has happened to you?--on half-pay?"

Mr. Digby shook his head mournfully.

"Digby, old fellow, can you lend me L100?" said Lord L'Estrange,
clapping his ci-devant brother-officer on the shoulder, and in a tone of
voice that seemed like a boy's, so impudent was it, and devil-me-Garish.
"No! Well, that's lucky, for I can lend it to you." Mr. Digby burst into
tears.

Lord L'Estrange did not seem to observe the emotion, but went on
carelessly,--

"Perhaps you don't know that, besides being heir to a father who is not
only very rich, but very liberal, I inherited, on coming of age, from a
maternal relation, a fortune so large that it would bore me to death
if I were obliged to live up to it. But in the days of our old
acquaintance, I fear we were both sad extravagant fellows, and I dare
say I borrowed of you pretty freely."

"Me! Oh, Lord L'Estrange!