came flying through my brain with the sting of an arrow.

"She must not be deceived. I have not any noble blood in me. I am
only the son of a soldier-farmer, and have my fortune to make,"
said I, quickly.

"That is only a little folly," she answered, laughing. "Whether
you be rich or poor, prince or peasant, she cares not a snap of her
finger. Ciel! is she not a republican, has she not money enough?"

"Nevertheless, I beg you to say, in your letter, that I have
nothing but my sword and my honor."

As we rode along I noted in my book the place and time we were to
meet the captives. The marquis joined us at the Hermitage, where a
stable-boy watered our horses. Three servants were still there,
the others being now in the count's service.

If any place give me a day's happiness it is dear to me, and the
where I find love is forever sacred. I like to stand where I stood
thinking of it, and there I see that those dear moments are as much
a part of me as of history. So while Therese and the marquis got
off their horses for a little parley with the gardener, I cantered
up the north trail to where I sat awhile that delightful summer day
with Louise. The grotto had now a lattice roofing of bare
branches. Leaves, as red as her blush, as golden as my memories,
came rattling through it, falling with a faint rustle. The big
woods were as a gloomy and deserted mansion, with the lonely cry of
the wind above and a ghostly rustle within where had been love and
song and laughter and all delight.

XIX

D'ri and I left the chateau that afternoon, putting up in the red
tavern at Morristown about dusk.

My companion rode away proudly, the medal dangling at his waistcoat
lapel.

"Jerushy Jane!" said he, presently, as he pulled rein. "Ain't
a-goin' t' hev thet floppin' there so--meks me feel luk a bird.
Don't seem nohow nat'ral. Wha' d' ye s'pose he gin me thet air
thing fer?"

He was putting it away carefully in his wallet.

"As a token of respect for your bravery," said I.

His laughter roared in the still woods, making my horse lift and
snort a little. It was never an easy job to break any horse to
D'ri's laughter.

"It's _reedic'lous_," said he, thoughtfully, in a moment.

"Why?"

"'Cause fer the reason why they don't no man deserve nuthin' fer
doin' what he 'd orter," he answered, with a serious and determined
look.

"You did well," said I, "and deserve anything you can get."

"Done my damdest!