time--but I no longer compete. And to whom, General, are we indebted
for this--ah--treat?"

General Rochambeau indicated young Raoul, who stepped forward from the
wall and answered, with a respectful inclination:

"Well, M. le Commissaire, in the first place to Captain Seymour."

The General bit his moustache; Endymion frowned. The answer merely
puzzled Dorothea, who did not know that Seymour was the name of the
British officer to whom the _Thétis_ had struck her colours.

"Moreover," the young man went on imperturbably, "we but repay our
debt to M. le Commissaire--for the entertainment he affords us."

Dorothea looked up sharply now, even anxiously; but her brother took
the shot, if shot it were, for a compliment. He put the awkward idiom
aside with a gracious wave of the hand. His brow cleared.

"But we must do something for these poor fellows," he announced,--
sweeping all the work-men in a gaze; "in mere gratitude we must. A
stall, now, at the end of the room under the gallery, with one or two
salesmen whom you must recommend to me, General. We might dispose of
quite a number of their small carvings and _articles de Paris_, with
which the market among the townspeople is decidedly overstocked. The
company on Wednesday will be less familiar with them: they will serve
as mementoes, and the prices, I daresay, will not be too closely
considered."

"Sir, I beg of you--" General Rochambeau expostulated.