"Have you ever seen him?"
"Never, child."
"And yet you approach even his name in hushed respect."
"Yes, even his name. I should like to see him," I continued wistfully, "to hear him speak once, to meet his calm eye. But I never shall. My service is of such a nature that it is inexpedient for him to receive me openly. So I never shall see him—save, perhaps, when the long war ends—God knows——"
She dropped her hand on mine and leaned lightly back against my shoulder.
"You must not fret," she murmured. "Remember that staff-officer said he praised you."
"I do, I do remember!" I repeated gratefully. "It was a reward I never dared expect—never dreamed of. His Excellency has been kind to me, indeed."
It was now past four o'clock in the afternoon, and Elsin, who had noted the wares in the shop-windows, desired to price the few simple goods offered for sale; so we went out into the dusty village street to see what was to be seen, but the few shops we entered were full of soldiers and not overclean, and the wares offered for sale were not attractive. I remember she bought points and some stuff for stocks, and needles and a reel of thread, and when she offered a gold piece everybody looked at us, and the shopkeeper called her "My lady" and me "My lord," and gave us in change for the gold piece a great handful of paper money.
We emerged from the shop amazed, and doubtful of the paper stuff, and walked up the street and out into the country, pausing under a great maple-tree to sort this new Continental currency, of which we had enough to stuff a pillow.
Scrip by scrip I examined the legal tender of my country, Elsin, her chin on my shoulder, scrutinizing the printed slips of yellow, brown, and red in growing wonder. One slip bore three arrows on it, under which was printed: