"The same, monsieur."
The scrap of conversation I had overheard between Captain Lindsay and Cornet Keith, during the night march, now flashed upon my memory.
"Pray tell no one else who you are," said I, hurriedly, while looking around me.
"Pourquoi, monsieur?" she asked, with almost hauteur.
"Because I heard an officer of rank say, that he would give a hundred and fifty English guineas to have you taken prisoner, and sent to London as a trophy."
She trembled and shrunk back on hearing this, lifting up her white hands deprecatingly.
"Oh be not alarmed, Mademoiselle de Broglie," said I, "for I would rather die than betray you."
"And how much may this reward be in French money?"
"About two thousand livres."
"Two thousand livres," she exclaimed, with a haughty laugh and a flashing eye; "they hold me cheap, indeed, who offer this!"