nch mouth. "Here's my car over this way and this is Mr.
Clendenning, who'll look after the rest of the gentlemen in your party
and bring them on up to the Capitol."

"Monsieur," said the Lieutenant, Count de Bourdon, with another bow
and then a quick recovery as he saw that he must take the hand of
Buzz, held out to him in great cordiality. These handshakes of America
are very confusing to those of Europe.

I saw a great laughter almost to explosion in the eyes of my Buzz at
the very little man who had such a great manner, and I made a hurrying
of him and my Uncle, the General Robert, to the large car standing
beside the station.

"I will precede you in my Cherry," I said as I saw both the gentlemen
seated together upon the back seat of the large black machine.

"No you don't; you take your seat right in here with us, to be on hand
if any bridge of this international conversation breaks down under the
Count and me," answered my Uncle, the General Robert, with stern
command.

"Is it that the young Monsieur Carruthers had an education in France?"
asked the Lieutenant, the Count de Bourdon. "He has the air of
French--shall I say, youth?" And as he spoke again I saw a gleam of
deeply aroused interest in his eyes which made my knees to tremble in
their tweed trousers.

"Born there; son of my brother, who died at the Marne," made answer to
the question my Uncle, the General Robert.

"It is now that I make a remembrance. That Capitaine Carruthers was
the husband to the very beautiful Marquise de Grez and Bye. In her
youth I was her friend. I did not know--" but as the Lieutenant, the
Count de Bourdon, was making this discovery which sent a thrill of
fear into the toes of my very shoes, the car stopped at the main
entrance of the Capitol and halfway down the long flight of steps
stood His Excellency, the great Gouverneur Faulkner of the State of
Harpeth, waiting to receive the guest who came on a mission to him
from a great land across the waters. Until I die and even into a space
beyond that, I shall take that picture of magnificence which was made
by my beloved Gouverneur Faulkner as he stood in the May sunlight with
his bronze hair in a gleaming. I thought him to be a great statue of
Succor as he held out both of his strong hands to the smaller man who
had come from a stricken land for his help.

"_Le bon Dieu_ keep of his heart a friend of France," I prayed as
I watched those hands clasp as my Uncle, the General R