n anything or anybody that had offended her, for Cigarette
was, in her fashion, Generalissima of all the Regiments of Africa.

The dealer ran with all the speed of terror, and overtook Cecil, who was
going slowly onward to the barracks.

"Are you serious?" he asked in surprise at the large amount, as the
little Jew panted out apologies, entreaties, and protestations of his
only having been in jest, and of his fervently desiring to buy the
carvings at his own price, as he knew of a great collector in Paris to
whom he needed to send them.

"Serious! Indeed am I serious, M. le Caporal," pleaded the
curiosity-trader, turning his head in agonized fear to see if the
vivandiere's pistol was behind him. "The things will be worth a great
deal to me where I shall send them, and though they are but bagatelles,
what is Paris itself but one bagatelle? Pouf! They are all children
there--they will love the toys. Take the money, I pray you; take the
money!"

Cecil looked at him a moment; he saw the man was in earnest, and thought
but little of his repentance and trepidation, for the citizens were all
afraid of slighting or annoying a soldier.

"So be it. Thank you," he said, as he stretched out his hand and took
the coins, not without a keen pang of the old pride that would not
be wholly stilled, yet gladly for sake of the Chasseur dying yonder,
growing delirious and retching the blood off his lungs in want of one
touch of the ice, that was spoiled by the ton weight, to keep cool the
wines and the fish of M. le Marquis de Chateauroy. And he went onward
to spend the gold his sculpture had brought on some yellow figs and
some cool golden grapes, and some ice-chilled wines that should soothe a
little of the pangs of dissolution to his comrade.

"You did it? That is well. Now, see here--one word of me, now or
ever after, and there is a little present that will come to you from
Cigarette," said the little Friend of the Flag with a sententious
sternness. The unhappy Jew shuddered and shut his eyes as she held a
bullet close to his sight, then dropped it with an ominous thud in her
pistol barrel.

"Not a syllable, never a syllable," he stammered; "and if I had known
you were in love with him--"

A box on the ears sent him across his own counter.

"In love? Parbleu! I detest the fellow!" said Cigarette, with fiery
scorn and as hot an oath.

"Truly? Then why give your Napoleons----" began the bruised and
stammering Israelite.

Ci