you the truth, Babache, I am set upon some adventure, out of
which glory and fortune may be wrung. For I love a young lady, not
indeed above me in rank, but as far beyond me in fortune as in merit,
and I must bridge the gulf between us before I can aspire to her. It
is--it is--Mademoiselle--"

"Francezka Capello," I said.

He was very much surprised at my guess, but the young always think
their elders have no eyes. Then he burst forth, as young men of twenty
do, raving over her beauty, her wit, her grace, lamenting her
venturesomeness as if he were Solomon and Methuselah in one. I felt
not one pang of jealousy. Francezka Capello was not for me, nor I for
her--but that was no reason why I should not love her as one loves a
star.

"And why does not Madame Riano keep a closer watch over her?" he
demanded angrily, as if I had something to do with it. "Jacques Haret
says that because Madame Riano always ruled her father, her husband,
her confessor, her lawyers, and her doctors, she thinks to rule this
girl by mere precept; but Francezka has the spirit of a fiery Scot and
a hot Spaniard in her, and no one can rule her except by gentleness
and persuasion. Then she is a lamb."

He then told me all about the chateau of Capello in Brabant. It was a
superb estate, and his own modest country house was within sight of
it. Castle Haret, which Regnard Cheverny had so cleverly acquired, was
some distance off in the same province. In Francezka's childhood,
during her parents' lifetime, she had lived at the chateau, where
Gaston and his brother had often played with her as a little girl.
Since she had been in Peggy Kirkpatrick's care she had lived in
Paris. But it was known that her Brabant estate was dearer to her than
any or all of her possessions, and the Brabant people said that when
she was her own mistress she would live in Brabant. The night at the
Temple, Gaston Cheverny had gradually recognized his little playmate
of years gone by, and from that moment, he confessed, with shining
eyes, he had thought only of her.

"And now, in this expedition to Courland, I see the road to honor and
fortune and Francezka open," cried my young game chick, and I assured
him so it was.

I remained with him the best part of two hours. The last thing he said
to me was:

"The surgeon says I may mount my horse in a fortnight, but you say the
word, and I mount and ride for Courland to-morrow!"

When I walked back to the Luxembourg, through t