"Monsieur Ormerod," he said abruptly, "you were good enough to call me a gentleman."

I met his eyes fully—and scarcely dared to believe what I read there.

"I am also," he continued, "a soldier of France. I trust I place my country's interests above my personal vanity, above friendship, above all. But I should not be a Frenchman if I did not recognize courage and the love which spans the worlds. I have learned a lesson from you and your comrades to-night, Monsieur. I thank you for it. You have made me a better Frenchman, a better soldier, a better Christian."

He made a wry face at this last word.

"Although I shall have trouble convincing Père Hyacinthe on that count," he admitted.

"You mean, Chevalier?" I queried breathlessly.

"I mean, Monsieur Ormerod, that I am unable to see how an adventure such as yours can do anything save good. It is an inspiration for brave men of all races. Has it not made me a better Frenchman to hear of it? That sleeping savage there, he is a better Frenchman than I, even so, he, who doubtless hates my race."

He rose.

"But I am not a sufficiently better Frenchman to dare to seem to flout Père Hyacinthe. Oh no! Therefore, Monsieur Ormerod, I am going for a walk to inspect the sentries. I shall draw their attention to something by the shore of the river over to the left. In the meantime, the fire dies. This glen leads into the forest. Your friends are here. I see you have your arms with you. Monsieur, I have the honor to tell you it has been a pleasure to meet you. Adieu!"

He was gone whilst I was still mumbling my thanks, I heard his hearty voice blustering at the nearest sentries, a running chain of comment along the outskirts of the camp; and I was recalled to my senses. A hand over the mouth of each, and my comrades awoke. Another minute, and crouched double, we were stealing up the glen into the welcome depths of the forest. Five minutes later, and our feet were spurning the leaf-mold as we ran between the trunks, left arms outstretched before our faces to ward off hanging boughs or vines.