.

"I do not know," I answered; "but I seem to be able to borrow as much
as I want. I am what you call in Jewry. I have mortgaged everything,
and am not quite sure that I have not mortgaged you."

We talked very gravely of money, and doubtless displayed a vast
ignorance of the subject. All that I can remember is, that we came to
no decision, and laughingly concluded that we were both well sped down
the slope of Avernus.

It had been arranged that we should go down to Hopton the following
day, where Giraud was to pass a few weeks with the ladies in exile.
And I thought--for Giraud was transparent as the day--that the wounded
hand, the bronze of battle-field and camp, and the dangers lived
through, aroused a hope that Lucille's heart might be touched. For
myself, I felt that none of these were required, and was sure that
Giraud's own good qualities had already won their way.

"She can, at all events, not laugh at this," he said, lifting the hurt
member, "or ridicule our great charge. Oh, Dick, _mon ami_, you have
missed something," he cried, to the astonishment of the porters in
Liverpool Street station. "You have missed something in life, for you
have never fought for France! Mon Dieu!--to hear the bugle sound the
charge--to see the horses, those brave beasts, throw up their heads as
they recognised the call--to see the faces of the men! Dick, that was
life--real life! To hear at last the crash of the sabres all along the
line, like a butler throwing his knife-box down the back stairs."

We reached Hopton in the evening, and I was not too well pleased to
find that Isabella had been invited to dine, "to do honour," as
Lucille said, to a "hero of the great retreat."

"We knew also," added Madame, addressing me, "that such old friends as
Miss Gayerson and yourself would be glad to meet."

And Isabella gave me a queer smile.

During dinner the conversation was general and mostly carried on in
English, in which tongue Alphonse Giraud discovered a wealth of
humour. In the drawing-room I had an opportunity of speaking to Madame
de Clericy of her affairs, to which report I also begged the attention
of Lucille.

It appeared to me that there was in the atmosphere of my own home some
subtle feeling of distrust or antagonism against myself, and once I
thought I intercepted a glance of understanding exchanged by Lucille
and Isabella. We were at the moment talking of Giraud's misfortunes,
which, indeed, that stricken soldie