ent to the window and threw wide the shutters, letting in a
ruddy shaft of the morning sun, so that as he stood in the strong glow
he looked like a man carved out of red gold. He lifted his glass,
not toward the table and his companions, while they stared at him,
surprised, but toward the locusts of Carewe Street.

"To Miss Betty Carewe," he said, "the finest flower of them all! May she
remember those who never come home!"

And, without pausing, he lifted his rich baritone in an old song that
had been vastly popular with the young men of Rouen ever since the night
of Miss Betty's debut; they had hummed it as they went about their daily
work, they had whistled it on the streets; they had drifted, into dreams
at night with the sound of it still chiming in their ears; and now, with
one accord, as they stood gathered together for the last time in Rouen,
they joined Tom Vanrevel and sang it again. And the eyes of Crailey Gray
rested very gently upon his best friend as they sang:

"Believe me, If all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so
fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow and fleet from my arms, Like
fairy gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment
thou art: Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin,
each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still."

CHAPTER XVII. The Price of Silence

It was the misfortune of Mr. Cummings's first literary offering to annoy
one of the editor's friends. The Journal was brought to the corporal at
noon, while he was considering whether he should rise from his couch
or sleep another hour. Reclining among his pillows, he glanced through
Cummings's description with the subdued giggle he always had for the
good William's style but as his eye fell upon one paragraph he started
sat upright, and proceeded to read the passage several times with
anxious attention.

"Only two or three sources of regret occurred to mar the delight (in
which young and old participated) of that festal and dazzling scene. One
was the absence of Miss Fanchon Bareaud, one the donors; another, that
of Corporal Gray; a third was the excessive modesty of Major Vanrevel,
although present at the time, refused to receive the ladies' sumptuous
offering and insisted that Captain Marsh was the proper person to do the
honors, to which the latter reluctantly, though gracefully consented.
Also, we were sorry that the Major appeared in citizen's dress, as
all wer