"I am sorry that, through no fault apparently of your own, this Sorcerer, Amochol, escaped. But, gentlemen, the service recognizes only success. I am always ready to listen to how nearly you failed, when you have succeeded; I have no interest in hearing how nearly you succeeded when you have failed. That is all, gentlemen."
We stood at salute while he wheeled, and, followed by his considerable staff, walked his fine horse away toward the train of artillery which stood near by, the gun-teams harnessed and saddled, the guns limbered up, drivers and cannoneers in their saddles and seats.
"Well," said Boyd heavily, "shall we be about this matter of Amochol?"
"Yes.... Will you aid me in placing Madame de Contrecoeur and her daughter in the wagon assigned them?"
He nodded, and together we started back toward the Vale Yndaia in silence.
After a long while he looked up at me and said:
"I know her now."
"What?"
"I recognize your pretty Lois de Contrecoeur. For weeks I have been troubled, thinking of her and how I should have known her face. And last night, lying north of Catharines-town, it came to me suddenly."
I was silent.