"Henceforth, Monsieur Kennedy," de la Vallee went on, "I hope that
we shall be as brothers, and more. Had it not been for you, my
life would have been a ruined one. What agony have I been saved!
It makes me mad, to think that I was idling at home, ignorant that
my beloved had been carried away. I do not blame the baron for not
informing me, and I acknowledge that the reasons he gave me were
good ones. I could have done nothing, and should but have added to
his troubles by my anxiety and anger. Still, he told me that, in
another day or two, he would have felt that I ought no longer to
be kept in the dark, and would have summoned me to Paris. I am
thankful now that he did not do so, for I believe that my
impotence to do anything would have driven me almost to
distraction."

"I agree with you that the baron acted wisely," Kennedy said. "Had
not chance, or Providence, taken me past the house where she was
imprisoned, at the very moment when Mademoiselle Pointdexter cried
for help, she might, for aught I can say, have remained a captive
there for months, or even years."

"It was Providence, indeed, Monsieur Kennedy. Providence, not only
that she should have cried at that moment, but that her cries
should have reached the ears of one so ready and able to save her.
And now, I pray you, call me Philip, and allow me to call you
Desmond, as a pledge of our close friendship."

"With pleasure," Kennedy replied; and the compact was sealed with
another close grasp of the hand.

"It is strange, Desmond, that while the king, who had but little