of athletic build. His thoughts were evidently far away, his handsome,
boyish face so preoccupied that it had the look of a face in a picture,
patrician, aloof, immobile.

But a sudden glimpse of the girl at the gate--the child with the shining
hair--brought him back in a fraction of time, transformed him utterly.
Recognition, vivid surprise, undoubted pleasure, flashed over his face.
With an eager smile, he paused, clicked his heels together, saluted.

She extended an eager hand--her left; Cinders monopolized her right.

"Oh," she exclaimed, "you! I didn't know you were a soldier!"

He took the hand over the gate, stooped and kissed it. "But I am
delighted, mademoiselle!" he said.

Cinders was also delighted, and struggled with yelps of welcome to reach
him. He stood up, laughing, and patted the little creature's head.

"And the foot?" he questioned.

"Much better," said Chris. "I am going down to the shore presently. I
wish you could come too."

He smiled and shook his head, with a glance after his men retreating up
the hill towards the fort. "I wish it also, mademoiselle, but--"

"Couldn't you?" begged Chris. "This afternoon! Just for a little while!
There's only Cinders and me."