agerly. There was new dignity in her carriage now,
but she greeted them warmly.

[Illustration: Two figures were approaching.]

"When we may, I shall hope to compare notes with you," she smiled.
"You are still on parole to me."

"But you, Madam--you seem differently situated here. I am very
glad to find it so." Carlisle was eager, flushed, frankly admiring.

"Yes, I scarce know which side the sea I belong. You know, I am
half American, though my people lived abroad, in diplomatic work.
By President Taylor I was chosen as one of the members of the
Hungarian commission sent over by America to look into the cause of
Hungary. In return, last year I had the honor of being asked to
come to this country as one of the commission despatched to America
in the interest of Hungary. I came over a certain time in advance,
for reasons of my own. Meantime, I have had, it seems--well, call
them adventures! I am not eager they should be known here. But if
you like, you may call on me at my hotel--to-morrow?"

Both recognized a slight additional trace of hauteur in the
deportment of the woman whom they now accosted. She herself saw a
sort of hesitation on the part of Carlisle.

"I can't let you make any mistake about me," he began presently.

"How do you mean?"

"You are probably not advised about me. I'm a person of no
consequence."

"An officer of his country's army can not say that of himself."

"But, I am no longer an officer of any army. I have been
court-martialed--for my conduct there--you know--that fight at St.
Genevieve. My abolitionist tendencies have always made me _persona
non grata_ in my own mess. There's been all sort of pressure
brought on me to drop it. Now the government itself, not wishing
these things to come to a focus, has ordered me to a court-martial.
Very well, I've been sentenced. My parole is ended, for the law
has acted on my conduct. Rather than go back many steps in rank, I
have thrown up my commission. This morning I resigned. I am
wearing my uniform, I don't doubt, for the last time."

"And that, although you fought in the cause of freedom! Although
you have fought honorably in an earlier war! Is it not horrible!"

"I could not do otherwise," said he simply. "I have no regrets."

"But don't you see,"--she turned upon him suddenly--"it only leaves
you all the more free!"

"I can not understand you."

"Will it not give you and your friend, Lieutenant Kammerer here,
p