spoke he led Max into a short corridor, at the end of which hung a
large frame containing portraits and many names of men and battles with
the crest of _la Legion Etrangere_ at the top. Pushing open a door at
the right, DeLisle made way for his guest. "Here are all the relics that
are to us men of the First Regiment most sacred," he said. And as he
passed in, he saluted a flag preciously guarded in a long glass case:
the flag of the regiment decorated with the Cross of the Legion of
Honour on an historic occasion of great bravery. An answering thrill
shot through Max's veins, for in them ran soldier blood. Involuntarily
he, too, saluted the flag and its cross. Colonel DeLisle gave him a
quick look, but made no comment.

Two out of the four walls were covered with portraits of men in uniforms
ancient and modern; paintings, engravings, photographs; and the
decorations were strange weapons, and torn, faded banners which had
helped the Legion to make history. There were drums and weird idols,
too, and monstrous masks and great fans from Tonkin and Madagascar, and
relics of fighting in Mexico. On the long table lay albums of
photographs, and upon either side were ranged chairs as if for officers
to sit in council.

"Whenever we wish to do a guest honour, we bring him here," said the
colonel. "We are not rich, and have nothing better to offer; except,
perhaps, our music."

"I have already heard the music," answered Max. "I shall never forget
it. And I shall never forget this room."

"Such music wakes the hearts of men, and helps inspire them to heroic
acts like these." Colonel DeLisle waved his hand toward some of the
pictures which showed soldiers fighting the Legion's most historic
battles. "I am rather proud of our music and our men. This room, too,
and the things in it--most of all the flag. My daughter has spent hours
in the Salle d'Honneur looking over our records. Presently she will join
us. But I wanted to thank you before she came. Corisande is a child,
knowing little of the world and its ways. Some men in your place would
have misunderstood her--in the unusual circumstances. But you did not.
You proved yourself a friend in need for my little girl, on her strange
journey to me. I wish in return there might be some way in which I could
show myself a friend to you. Can you think of any such way?"

The voice was earnest and very kind. A great reaction from his first
prejudice against the speaker swept over Max. Be