scoundrel, Monsieur le Baron de St. Aulaire.

"I protest, sir," cried Mr. Gilbert from his place beside Miss
Crenshawe, when the bow at last dropped from the quivering strings, "I
protest I have not heard such music since St. George and Garat played
and sang together in Paris!"

Monsieur de Lafayette laid his hand affectionately on Calvert's
shoulder. "Ah, Ned," he said in his English with the strong accent,
"that was sweet, but if I mistake me not, thy voice sounded even sweeter
to my ears as thou sangst thy songs around the campfires at night after
our long marches and counter-marches when we hung upon Cornwallis's
flank or raced toward Petersburg to beat Phillips! 'Twas a very girl's
voice then, but it could make us forget fatigue and danger and
homesickness!"

"I am glad to believe that I was of some service," said Calvert. "I have
often thought," he went on, smiling a little, "that had I not been under
the protection of General Washington I should never have been permitted
to make the campaign."

But the Marquis would have none of his modesty.

"No, no," he cried, "thou knowest thou wert my favorite aide and served
me faithfully and well. Dost thou not remember the many messages thou
didst carry to General Rochambeau for me when we lay before Yorktown?
And the friends thou hadst in his army? De Beaufort and d'Azay were
among the best, is it not so? But what is this?" he inquired, suddenly,
as he saw the middle of the long room cleared and a very army of slaves
approaching bearing an immense table already laid with fine damask and