"It is for the stranger to be grateful for your trust," I answered.
She smiled,—that smile was getting into my poor brain—"A woman usually knows a gentleman," she said.
I bowed.
"And under certain circumstances she likes to know his name," she added.
For a moment I was undecided. Should I tell her and claim my cousinship? I was sorely tempted. Then I saw what a mistake it would be,—she would not believe it,—and answered:
"John Smith, Your Royal Highness, and your most obedient servant."
She must have noticed my hesitation, for she studied my face an instant, then said, with a pause between each word and a peculiar stress on the name:
"General—Smith?"
"Simple Captain," I answered. "We do not climb so rapidly in our Army."
Just then, from the barracks three miles away, came the boom of the evening gun.