A while they stayed thus; the hungry glance of his grey eyes
peering into the clear blue depths of hers; and in those depths
his soul was drowned, his honour stifled.

"Cynthia,' he cried, "God pity me, I love you!" And he swooned
again.




CHAPTER XXVI

TO FRANCE


That cry, which she but half understood, was still ringing in
her ears, when the door was of a sudden flung open, and across
the threshold a very daintily arrayed young gentleman stepped
briskly, the expostulating landlord following close upon his
heels.

"I tell thee, lying dog," he cried, "I saw him ride into the
yard, and, "fore George, he shall give me the chance of mending
my losses. Be off to your father, you Devil's natural."

Cynthia looked up in alarm, whereupon that merry blood catching
sight of her, halted in some confusion at what he saw.

"Rat me, madam," he cried, "I did not know - I had not looked
to - " He stopped, and remembering at last his manners he made