'Oh, now! Yes, very soon,' said he. 'I--I wish to tell you. I
would not let Flora--Miss Gilchrist, I mean--come to-day. I wished
to see more of you myself. I trust you are not offended: you
know, one should be careful about strangers.'

I approved his caution, and he took himself away: leaving me in a
mixture of contrarious feelings, part ashamed to have played on one
so gullible, part raging that I should have burned so much incense
before the vanity of England; yet, in the bottom of my soul,
delighted to think I had made a friend--or, at least, begun to make
a friend--of Flora's brother.

As I had half expected, both made their appearance the next day. I
struck so fine a shade betwixt the pride that is allowed to
soldiers and the sorrowful humility that befits a captive, that I
declare, as I went to meet them, I might have afforded a subject
for a painter. So much was high comedy, I must confess; but so
soon as my eyes lighted full on her dark face and eloquent eyes,
the blood leaped into my cheeks--and that was nature! I thanked
them, but not the least with exultation; it was my cue to be
mournful, and to take the pair of them as one.

'I have been thinking,' I said, 'you have been so good to me, both
of you, stranger and prisoner as I am, that I have been thinking
how I could testify to my gratitude. It may seem a strange subject
for a confidence, but there is actually no one here, even of my
comrades, that knows me by my name and title. By these I am called
plain Champdivers, a name to which I have a right, but not the name
which I should bear, and which (but a little while ago) I must hide
like a crime. Miss Flora, suffer me to present to you the Vicomte