than
the bud," is what I presented to her.

"You are delicious," she laughed as she again diminished my breathing
space. "I cannot see why the dear General has been so violent in his
prejudice against all things from France. You must try to win him
over, especially as he is letting his prejudice to France, if you can
call downright hatred that, stand in the way of lending his aid in
doing a great service to your poor, struggling, brave army, while at
the same time reaping a profit to his own State. Has he told you
anything of this mule deal he is forcing Governor Faulkner to hold up
on some others who want to do a service to France?" As she questioned
me, the beautiful Madam's eyes became much narrower and I could
observe that she watched me with intentness for any sign of
intelligence. I gave her none.

"Will you not tell me, my Madam of the blue flower eyes, about all of
the matter? It will be of great benefit to me to understand it all
from you, for my Uncle the General Robert is a man of few words and I
am not a man of much business intelligence." And as I spoke I regarded
her with a great and beseeching humility.

And there, in the Mansion of the Gouverneur of the State of Harpeth
himself, that lovely woman did unfold to me the most wonderful plan
for the most enormous robbery of both her own government and mine--or
should I say of both of my governments?--that it could be in the power
of mortal mind to conceive. It was a beautiful, reasonable, generous,
patriotic, sympathetic drama of the gigantic war mule and it had only
one tiny, hidden obscure line in one of its verses, but in that line
lay all of dishonor that could come to a man and a State who should
allow a smaller nation fighting for its life and its honor to be
defrauded of one of the supplies which were of a deadly necessity for
its success. I think I even saw the dastardly scheme more plainly than
did my Uncle, the General Robert, for I had listened with more than
one ear while my Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles, explained to wee
Pierre some of the details of supplying the army of the Republique. I
think he had talked of things that the little one could not understand
just to make an ease of the pressure of all of his business upon his
troubled mind and breaking heart. And as Madam Whitworth talked I
could hear my Pierre's brave voice as he always gave assurances to his
sad idol.

"All of plenty is in America, and she will give to France."

And