lations, I had guided
through the war zone to the castle of Prezelay.

As the chauffeur halted it near the pavilion, it disgorged three
occupants, one of who, a young officer, slender of form and gracefully
alert of movement, wore the dark-blue uniform of the French Flying
Corps. I knew him only too well. It was Jean-Herve-Marie-Olivier.
But the glance I gave him was most cursory; my attention was focused
hungrily on the two ladies in the tonneau. They had risen and were
divesting themselves in leisurely fashion of a most complicated
arrangement of motor coats and veils.

From these swathing disguises there first emerged, as if from a
chrysalis, a black-clad, distinguished-looking young woman whom I had
never seen before. However, it was the second figure, the one in the
rosy veils and the tan mantle, that was exciting me. Off came her
wrappings, and I saw a girl in a white gown and a flowered hat--the
loveliest girl on earth.

I did not stand on the order of my going. I rocked perilously, and
my crutches made a furious clatter, but I was outside in a truly
infinitesimal space of time. Yes; there they were, chatting with Dunny,
who had hurried to meet them. And at sight of me the Firefly of France
ran forward with hands extended, greeting me as if I were his oldest
friend, his brother, his dearest comrade in arms.

I took his hands and I pressed them with what show of warmth I could
summon. It was as peasant as a bit of torture, but it had to be gone
through. Then I stared past him toward the ladies, who were coming up
with Dunny; and except for that girl in white, I saw nothing in all the
world.

"Monsieur," the duke was saying, "I pay you my first visit. Only my
weakness has prevented me from sooner welcoming to Raincy-la-Tour so
honored a guest."

He turned to the lady who stood beside Miss Falconer, a slender,
dark-eyed, gracious young woman wearing a simple black gown and a black
hat and a string of pearls.

"Here is another," said the Firefly, "who has come to welcome you. Oh,
yes, Monsieur, you must know, and you must count henceforth as your
friends in any need, even to the death, all those who bear the name of
Raincy-la-Tour. Permit that I present you to my wife, who is of your
country."

"Jean's wife is my sister, Mr. Bayne," Miss Falconer said.

CHAPTER XXVI

AN UNEXPECTED VISIT

I don't know what they thought of me, probably that I was crazy. For a
good minute, a long sixty seconds, I sim