he spoke, with the result that he often appeared to be about to say
something, and was interrupted before the words had been uttered.

"Unless my memory is a bad one, your mother was an Englishwoman,
monsieur," said Sebastian, "which would account for your being in
the English service."

"Not entirely," answered d'Arragon, "though my mother was indeed
English and died--in a French prison. But it was from a sense of
gratitude that my father placed me in the English service--and I
have never regretted it, monsieur."

"Your father received kindnesses at English hands, after his escape,
like many others."

"Yes, and he was too old to repay them by doing the country any
service himself. He would have done it if he could--"

D'Arragon paused, looking steadily at the tall old man who listened
to him with averted eyes.

"My father was one of those," he said at length, "who did not think
that in fighting for Bonaparte one was necessarily fighting for
France."

Sebastian held up a warning hand.

"In England--" he corrected, "in England one may think such things.
But not in France, and still less in Dantzig."