"I believe that is our national character," he said--God forgive
him!--with an air of pride.

"I have seen your national character running away at least, and had the
honour to run after it!" rose to my lips, but I was not so ill-advised
as to give it utterance. Every one should be flattered, but boys and
women without stint; and I put in the rest of the afternoon narrating to
him tales of British heroism, for which I should not like to engage that
they were all true.

"I am quite surprised," he said at last. "People tell you the French are
insincere. Now, I think your sincerity is beautiful. I think you have a
noble character. I admire you very much. I am very grateful for your
kindness to--to one so young," and he offered me his hand.

"I shall see you again soon?" said I.

"O, now! Yes, very soon," said he. "I--I wish to tell you. I would not
let Flora--Miss Gilchrist, I mean--come to-day. I wished to see more of
you myself. I trust you are not offended: you know, one should be
careful about strangers."

I approved his caution, and he took himself away: leaving me in a
mixture of contrarious feelings, part ashamed to have played on one so
gullible, part raging that I should have burned so much incense before
the vanity of England; yet, in the bottom of my soul, delighted to think
I had made a friend--or, at least, begun to make a friend--of Flora's
brother.

As I had half expected, both made their appearance the next day. I
struck so fine a shade betwixt the pride that is allowed to soldiers and
the sorrowful humility that befits a captive, that I declare, as I went
to meet them, I might have afforded a subject for a painter. So much was
high comedy, I must confess; but so soon as my eyes lighted full on her
dark face and eloquent eyes, the blood leaped into my cheeks--and that
was nature! I thanked them, but not the least with exultation; it was my
cue to be mournful, and to take the pair of them as one.

"I have been thinking," I said, "you have been so good to me, both of
you, stranger and prisoner as I am, that I have been thinking how I
could testify to my gratitude. It may seem a strange subject for a
confidence, but there is actually no one here, even of my comrades, that
knows me by my name and title. By these I am called plain Champdivers, a
name to which I have a right, but not the name which I should bear, and
which (but a little while ago) I must hide like a crime. Miss Flora,
suffer me to present