“The haughty spirit of the marquis could not brook the injustice from one whose social position was inferior to his, and seizing a boot which the officer had just removed, he hurled it at the head of its owner. It struck him upon the temple and he fell to the ground unconscious.
“The marquis rushed from the tent and with the help of his aides escaped to England, and from thence sailed to America, where he lived in the strictest retirement. He married in Philadelphia and my father-in-law was the only heir to the property in France, and to the title, neither of which he made effort to claim.
“In my father-in-law’s will was a request that my husband should go to France and lay claim to the property, and divide it equally between himself and Horace, which has been done.”
The two ladies had walked slowly toward “My Lady’s Manor” during the conversation, and upon reaching it found that Archie, who had come the evening before, was still there; and after Hilda had shown Mrs. De Cormis to her room she returned to have a chat with him.
“You have never told me your last name, Archie,” she said gently as she took a seat beside him. “Every person has a last name, and it would please me to know yours.”
“Archie forgets; he has tried, and tried, and cannot think,” and a look of sad perplexity came into the worn face.
“Is it Flint? Archibald Flint?”
A gleam of glad recognition came into the eyes of the wanderer, and he clasped his hands in delight.
“That is it! Archibald Flint! Archie has never heard it since he had the fever. Archibald Flint! Yes, that is Archie’s name.”
From that time he made no effort to leave “My Lady’s Manor.” He said he was tired of looking for people in the snow; he must rest. So he remained in that comfortable home, frequently saying to himself, “Archibald Flint! Yes, that is Archie’s name,” and the home of the one whose life he had saved was truly a haven of rest to his weary feet.