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And from that long table there came to me such beautiful and loving smiles over the glasses of champagne that they went to my head instead of the wine I could not even sip because of the tears in my throat. It was as that day upon the great ship when I saw fulfilled before my eyes my vow to my Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles: "Friends for France."

"I give thanks to le bon Dieu," I said with words that were very soft in my throat, but at which I observed the mouth of that Gouverneur Faulkner to again become as one straight line of coldness. "Indeed, thanks to le bon Dieu, Mademoiselle," made courteous answer to me my Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles. "But how will you accomplish that purpose. Monsieur le Gouverneur?"

And that sadness lasted for three days, up unto the day before we came to a sight of the Lady of Liberty of America. Then his face found a great radiance and I perceived that he was full of much business. I found him with a notebook, in deep consultation with my Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles, and then in earnest consultation with many of the other gentlemen.

It was a very wonderful thing to observe the wee Pierre listen to the narration of Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles, concerning the actions of a small boy who had run out of a night of shot and shell into the heart of his regiment and who had now lived five months in the trenches with them. Pierre's small face is all of France and in his heart under his bent chest burns a soul all of France.

And as he so stood, the eyes of the Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles, fell upon him and he started forward as far as the length of the chain by which he was bound would allow him and from there held out his hand to the frozen boy standing in the stream of light from high heaven. "My most beautiful lady Roberta, do I find that it is you who have come to my rescue?" he questioned.

Here, drink, stranger!" answered the wild Jim as he handed a bottle of white liquid to my Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles, and also another to my Gouverneur Faulkner. "That boy can suck the drippings," he added as he looked at me with humor. "Get cups and water, Jim," commanded my Gouverneur Faulkner with a smile. "Don't drink it straight, Captain. It will knock you down."

"But he is not as my Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles," I said in reproof to that eagle, which made a quiet in my heart so that I could listen to the words returned by the man of France to the man of America. "I thank you, Monsieur the Secretary of Harpeth; my journey was of great pleasure and comfort," were the words which he returned in very nice English.

"It is indeed of such a gravity that I have come from the English Canada to make all clear to myself," answered my beloved Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles, as he drew himself to his entire height, which was well-nigh as great as that of the Gouverneur of the State of Harpeth.

"Is it that the small Gaston is a daredevil like is my Bob?" he questioned as we all made a laughter at the story of the Count de Lasselles concerning the sortie of the small idol from the trenches in the dead of one peaceful night to return with a very wide thick flannel shirt of one of the Boches, which he had caught hanging upon a temporary laundry line back of the German trenches.

And as the Gouverneur Faulkner spoke those words to my Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles, with a great courtesy but also a great sternness, in which he named me not as his friend but as the friend of that Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles, I knew that I was placed by him among all women liars of the world and that to him his boy Robert of honor was of a truth dead forever.