rtesy to that Gouverneur Faulkner habited in the white lace and
tulle garment that is in those trunks which you have lost in that New
York, with your throat that your Russian Cossack has said was like a
lily at the blush of dawn, bare to his eyes, but you are a nice,
clean, upstanding American boy who can be his friend. You must be and
you must play the game."

And in the language of that Mr. Willie Saint Louis, it was "some
game."

CHAPTER IX

"O'ER THE LAND OF THE FREE--"

I have a desire to know if it is into the life of every person there
comes one night which he is never to forget until death and perhaps
even after. I do not know; but I am sure that I shall always keep the
memory of the night upon which Mr. Robert Carruthers of Grez and Bye
was introduced to the friends of his ancestors. It is my jewel that
seems a drop of heart's blood that I will wear forever hid in my
breast.

At dinner I sat beside the Gouverneur Williamson Faulkner and tears
came into my eyes as he rose from beside me at the head of the table
and said:

"Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to drink to the homecoming of Robert
Carruthers, my friend, your friend, and everybody his friends."

And from that long table there came to me such beautiful and loving
smiles over the glasses of champagne that they went to my head instead
of the wine I could not even sip because of the tears in my throat. It
was as that day upon the great ship when I saw fulfilled before my
eyes my vow to my Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles: "Friends for
France." I sat still for a long minute; then I rose to my feet with my
glass in my hand.

"I cannot make to you a speech, but I beg that I may say to you words
that were of the first taught to my infant tongue and which I last
repeated in an old convent close to the trenches in France."

Then in the rich voice which has come to me from the deep singing of
my mother I repeated very quietly:

"Oh--say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming;
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there--"

through to the last words which had fallen from my lips as I had taken
my father's dying kiss:

"O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave."

Thou