"He was grateful, sir, to my father, and wished to make a return. He had been taken in the conscription some time before, and my father and Captain Ivor helped to pay for a substitute. It was for his old mother's sake."
This was a note which could not fail to appeal to the most loyal of sons. Moore's face showed quick response, though he only said—"Détenus?"
"Yes, sir. We were detained in 1803—my father and Captain Ivor. My mother stayed with them, and I could not get a passport. Later on I was sent from Verdun to Bitche."
"Denham Ivor of the Guards! I remember—he was among the détenus."
"Yes, sir. He was under you in the West Indies and Holland and Egypt."
"Of course. I know him well. I regretted much not having him again. How came he to linger so long in France?"
Roy explained briefly the smallpox complication, the General listening with still that intent gaze.
"Then Ivor is at Verdun now. Hard upon him! As gallant a young fellow as I ever had to do with. I would give something to have him in this expedition."
Roy treasured up the words for Ivor's future comfort.
"Captain Ivor feels it terribly, sir," he said.