oned to me; "they want you upstairs."

We both got to our feet.

"Not you," he growled, waving D'ri back. "Not ready fer you yet."

He laid hold of my elbow and snapped a shackle on my wrist. Then
they led me out, closing the door with a bang that echoed in the
far reaches of the dark alley, and tied a thick cloth over my eyes.

"Good luck!" D'ri cried out as they took me away.

"For both," I answered as cheerfully as I could.

They led me through winding passages and iron doors, with that
horrible clank of the prison latch, and up flights of stone till I
felt as lost as one might who falls whirling in the air from a
great height. We soon came out upon a walk of gravel, where I
could feel the sweet air blowing into my face. A few minutes more
and we halted, where the guard, who had hold of my elbow, rang a
bell. As the door swung open they led me in upon a soft carpet.
Through the cloth I could see a light.

"Bring him in, bring him in!" a voice commanded impatiently--a
deep, heavy voice the sound of which I have not yet forgotten. The
guard was afraid of it. His hand trembled as he led me on.

"Take off the blindfold," said that voice again.

As it fell away, I found myself in a large and beautiful room. My
eyes were dazzled by the light of many candles, and for a little I
had to close them. I stood before two men. One sat facing me at a
black table of carved oak--a man of middle age, in the uniform of a
British general. Stout and handsome, with brown eyes, dark hair
and mustache now half white, and nose aquiline by the least turn,
he impressed me as have few men that ever crossed my path. A young
man sat lounging easily in a big chair beside him, his legs
crossed, his delicate fingers teasing a thin mustache. I noticed
that his hands were slim and hairy. He glanced up at me as soon as
I could bear the light. Then he sat looking idly at the carpet,

The silence of the room was broken only by the scratch of a quill
in the hand of the general. I glanced about me. On the wall was a
large painting that held my eye: there was something familiar in
the face. I saw presently it was that of the officer I had fought
in the woods, the one who fell before me. I turned my head; the
young man was looking up at me. A smile had parted his lips. They
were the lips of a rake, it seemed to me. A fine set of teeth
showed between them.

"Do you know him?" he asked coolly.

"I have not the honor," was m