rare flowers in
Sevres porcelain vases painted by Madame Jacotot; tiny South American
birds, like living rubies, sapphires, and gold, hovered among the
Mexican jessamines and camellias. A pianoforte had been fitted into the
room, and here and there on the paneled walls, covered with red silk,
hung small pictures by great painters--a _Sunset_ by Hippolyte Schinner
beside a Terburg, one of Raphael's Madonnas scarcely yielded in charm to
a sketch by Gericault, while a Gerard Dow eclipsed the painters of the
Empire. On a lacquered table stood a golden plate full of delicious
fruit. Indeed, Helene might have been the sovereign lady of some great
country, and this cabin of hers a boudoir in which her crowned lover
had brought together all earth's treasure to please his consort. The
children gazed with bright, keen eyes at their grandfather. Accustomed
as they were to a life of battle, storm, and tumult, they recalled the
Roman children in David's _Brutus_, watching the fighting and bloodshed
with curious interest.

"What! is it possible?" cried Helene, catching her father's arm as if to
assure herself that this was no vision.

"Helene!"

"Father!"

They fell into each other's arms, and the old man's embrace was not so
close and warm as Helene's.

"Were you on board that vessel?"

"Yes," he answered sadly, and looking at the little ones, who gathered
about him and gazed with wide open eyes.

"I was about to perish, but--"

"But for my husband," she broke in. "I see how it was."

"Ah!" cried the General, "why must I find you again like this, Helene?
After all the many tears that I have shed, must I still groan for your
fate?"

"And why?" she asked, smiling. "Why should you be sorry to learn that I
am the happiest woman under the sun?"

"_Happy_?" he cried with a start of surprise.

"Yes, happy, my kind father," and she caught his hands in hers and
covered them with kisses, and pressed them to her throbbing heart. Her
caresses, and a something in the carriage of her head, were interpreted
yet more plainly by the joy sparkling in her eyes.

"And how is this?" he asked, wondering at his daughter's life, forgetful
now of everything but the bright glowing face before him.

"Listen, father; I have for lover, husband, servant, and master one
whose soul is as great as the boundless sea, as infinite in his kindness
as heaven, a god on earth! Never during these seven years has a chance
look, or word, or gesture jarred