regiment, and then, mounting his horse, rode to Versailles. On his
ringing the bell at the house occupied by the Baron de Pointdexter,
the old servitor, whom he had before seen, opened the gate.

"The baron is expecting you, monsieur," he said, bowing deeply;
and, at his call, another servant ran out and took Desmond's
horse, and led it away to the stable, while Desmond followed the
old man to the house.

The door opened as they approached, and the baron, a tall man,
some fifty years of age, advanced hastily, holding out both hands.

"Monsieur Kennedy," he said, "you have rendered to me the greatest
service that I have received during my life. No words can express
the gratitude that I feel, for one who has restored to me my only
child, just when I had come to believe that she was lost to me
forever. It was surely her guardian saint who sent you to the
spot, at that moment."

"It might have happened to anyone, sir," Desmond said; "surely any
gentleman, on hearing an appeal for help from a woman in distress,
would have done just what I did."

"Let us go in," the baron said. "My daughter has been eagerly
waiting your coming, especially as she tells me that she does not
think she said even a word of thanks to you, being overpowered by
what she had gone through, and by her joy at her sudden and
unexpected deliverance. Indeed, she says that she scarcely
exchanged two words with you."