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However, no one, except the author himself, knew that Betty was the subject; for Crailey certainly did not mention it to Miss Bareaud, nor to his best friend, Vanrevel. It was to some degree a strange comradeship between these two young men; their tastes led them so often in opposite directions.

Tom took his own time in coming; he had stayed at the club to go over his lists so he had told Crailey with the General and old Bareaud. His company was almost complete, and Crailey had been the first to volunteer, to the dumfounding of Trumble, who had proceeded to drink his health again and again.

The cravat was never tied; Tom's hands dropped to his sides as he started back from the staring face in the mirror. Robert Carewe was waiting and Crailey All at once there was but one vital necessity in the world for Tom Vanrevel, that was to find Crailey; he must go to Crailey even in Carewe's own house he must go to Crailey! He dashed down the stairs and into the street.

"Do you want to drive me quite mad? Please go!" She laid a trembling, urgent hand upon his sleeve. "Never, until you tell me that you understand," replied Crailey firmly, listening keenly for the slightest sound from overhead. "Never until then!" "When I do I shall tell you; now I only know that you must go." "But tell me " "You must go!"

If there were nothing better underneath the mask, I might play, too." "Did you learn this at the convent?" gasped Crailey. "There was a world there in miniature," she answered, speaking very quickly. "I think all people are made of the same materials, only in such different proportions.

"On the contrary," answered Tom, raising his voice, "I think you'll find Crailey Gray the first to enlist, and as for myself, I've raised sixty men in the country, and I want forty more from Rouen, in order to offer the Governor a full company.

Was it a Valkyrie assuming that lovely likeness to perch upon this eyrie, waiting to bear their heroic souls to Valhalla, or was it Miss Betty Carewe? To the chief she spoke all of them agreed to that afterward but it was Crailey who answered, while Tom could only stare, and stand wagging his head at the lovely phantom, like a Mandarin on a shelf. "My mother in heaven!" gasped Crailey.

I'd hoped, stupidly enough, that you would tell me whom it was you meant when you spoke to Crailey, so that I could help to make it surer that he'd come back to you. But I've only annoyed you. And you were here away from the house avoiding me, and fearing that I " "Vanrevel!" shouted William. "Fearing? Yes?" "Fearing that I might discover you."

Crailey made three attempts to draw himself up; but the strain was too much for his grip, and on the third attempt his fingers melted from the rung, and he swung down fearfully, hanging by his knee, but still clinging to the nozzle. "Give it up, Crailey; it isn't worth it," Vanrevel called from overhead, not daring the weight of both on the light grappling-ladder.

And this was the story, too, that Tom told Fanchon; for it was he who brought her to Crailey. Through the long night she knelt at Crailey's side, his hand always pressed to her breast or cheek, her eyes always upward, and her lips moving with her prayers, not for Crailey to be spared, but that the Father would take good care of him in heaven till she came.