"I have not tasted wine these five years," he said; then added, "You--you
took too much wine in Jersey, did you not, monsieur? I used to say an
office for you every Litany day, which was of a Friday."

His eyes again caught the cross and heart on Detricand's coat, and they
lighted up a little. "The Lord hath triumphed gloriously," he repeated,
and added irrelevantly, "I suppose you are almost a captain now?"

"A general--almost," said Detricand with gentle humour.

At that moment an orderly appeared at the tent-door, bearing a letter for
Detricand.

"From General Grandjon-Larisse of the Republican army, your highness,"
said the orderly, handing the letter. "The messenger awaits an answer."

As Detricand hastily read, a look of astonishment crossed over his face,
and his brows gathered in perplexity. After a minute's silence he said
to the orderly:

"I will send a reply to-morrow."

"Yes, your highness." The orderly saluted and retired.

Mr. Dow half raised himself on his couch, and the fevered eyes swallowed
Detricand.

"You--you are a prince, monsieur?" he said. Detricand glanced up from
the letter he was reading again, a grave and troubled look on his face.