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Updated: June 24, 2025
The heart of the man who was not her father yearned toward the girl. "Shall I take you back?" he panted. "We're not far past Touggourt. To-morrow it will be too late, but now now " "Now it's already too late. Oh, Soldier! to have yesterday again!" He did not ask her what she meant. He did not need to ask. "It can be yesterday for you," he urged. "No. Yesterday I was Sanda DeLisle.
If he had not come he would not have met Colonel DeLisle, his beau ideal of a man and a soldier. He would be a boy again, it seemed, with his eyes shut in the face of life. And he would miss his sweetest memory of Sanda: that hour in the Salle d'Honneur of the Legion, when she had christened him St. George and called him "her soldier."
"Ah, not in the Legion!" "It can't kill me." "It might." "Let it, then. I'll die learning to be a man." DeLisle looked at his companion intently. "I think," he said, "you are a man." "No, sir, I'm not," Max contradicted him abruptly. "I used to hope I might pass muster as men go. But these last days I've been finding myself out.
This voyage was translated from the original Dutch by Thevenot, and printed by him in the first volume of his collections. Pelsart's route is traced in the map of the globe published by Delisle in the year 1700.
The Commander availed himself of his stay in this port to make some necessary repairs in his vessel, and to confirm the statements of Captain Clerke, who had succeeded Cook in the command of his last expedition, and those of Delisle de la Croyère, the French astronomer, who had been Behring's companion in 1741.
The name of his master has never been discovered; but it is pretended that he rendered himself in some manner obnoxious to the government of Louis XIV, and was obliged, in consequence, to take refuge in Switzerland. Delisle accompanied him as far as Savoy, and there, it is said, set upon him in a solitary mountain-pass, and murdered and robbed him.
He wrote Sanda that when his business was finished he would make up his mind what to do; but in any case he hoped that he might be allowed to bid her and Colonel DeLisle farewell. In answer, came an invitation from the Colonel to see the Salle d'Honneur of the Legion, the famous gallery where records of its heroes were kept. "If he were interested in the Legion!"
How strange! He didn't refer to him at all." "You mentioned that the colonel wrote in a hurry." Max hinted at this explanation to comfort her, but he guessed why DeLisle had not been in a mood to speak of Stanton to his daughter. "There is a reason," he had said, "why I don't want to ask Stanton to put off starting and go to Djazerta."
"I thank you for it, my Colonel," Max said, half ashamed of the deep feeling which his voice betrayed. "I wish I might be able to thank Miss DeLisle. It is a great deal to me that she should remember me my " "Your chivalry? It would be impossible to forget," DeLisle took him up crisply. Then he dismissed the subject, as Max felt.
Stanton, née Corisande DeLisle, was called "Sanda" by those who loved her, the doctor and the professional nurse supposed he was babbling about the sand of the desert. He had certainly had a distressing amount of it! Max would have been immensely interested if he could have known at this time of three persons in different parts of the world who were working for him in different ways.
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