in
suspense?" I urged.

"Because you have not yet quite recovered. You are not entirely
yourself. Come," she added kindly, "let us take a little walk. It will
do you good for the weather is so lovely to-day."

At her suggestion I strolled by her side through the pleasant grounds
of the hospital, down into St. Malo, the busy streets of which were,
however, entirely unfamiliar to me. Yet, according to the Sister, I
had walked in them a number of times before. Still, I had no
recollection of doing so.

"I am taking you for your favourite stroll," she said, as we went down
one of the steep, tortuous streets to the little Place Chateaubriand
in front of the ancient castle, which, she told me, was now a
barracks.

Presently she mounted to the ramparts, and as we strolled round them,
I admired the beautiful view of the sea, the many islets, and the
curious appearance of the town. The tide was up, and the view on that
sunny December morning was glorious.

At one point where we halted my nurse pointed out the little summer
town of Dinard and St. Enogat, and told me the names of the various
islets rising from the sea, Les Herbiers, the Grand Jardin, La
Conchee, and all the rest.

But I walked those ramparts like a man in a dream. A new life had, in
that past hour, opened up to me. What had occurred since I had
accepted that bundle of bank notes from the millionaire's hand I did
not know. I had emerged from the darkness of unconsciousness into the
knowledge of things about me, and found myself amid surroundings which
I had never before known--in a French hospital where they evidently
viewed me as an interesting "case."

I stood against the wall and gazed about. My habit was to carry my
cigarette-case in my upper waistcoat pocket. Instinctively I felt for
it, and it was there. It was not my own silver case, but a big nickel
one, yet in it there were some of my own brand.

I looked inquiringly at my nurse.

She smiled, saying:

"You haven't many left. Why can't you smoke some other brand? You
always insist upon that one. I had so much difficulty in getting them
for you yesterday!"

"They are my own particular fancy," I said, tapping one of them upon
the case before lighting it.

"I know. But here, in France, they are most difficult to get. The
other day you said you had smoked them all through the war, and even
when you were in Italy you had had them sent out to you from London."

That was quite correct.

"Well