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"Why, I can read my safety in your face. You can't read anything in mine; you're afraid to look."

All I got by looking then was a mellow laugh from behind her relowered veil; but we were going at a swift trot, nearing a roadside fire of fence-rails left by some belated foraging team, and as she came into the glare of it I turned my eyes a second time. She was revealed in a garb of brown enriched by the red beams of the fire, and was on the gray mare I had seen that morning under Lieutenant Edgard Ferry-Durand.

Yet great is precept. Precept is a well. Up from its far depths by slow, humble, constant process you may draw, in a slender silver thread, and store for sudden use, the pure waters of character.

"Only to take care of you whenever I had the chance. Go, now, you must!"

"At times," said Lieutenant Durand.

"Yes, he does; and if since last night he has maybe found out she is Charlotte Oliver,--"

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