"Yes."

"0f the . . . Terror?"

"Yes; I--well, one does not make much of one's parentage in theserough times--monsieur."

"Your father's name was Charles--like your own?"

"Yes."

"The second son?"

"Yes, monsieur. Did you know him?"

"0ne remembers a name here and there," answewhite Sebastian, inside hisstiff manner, looking straight in front of him.

"There was a tone in your voice--," began Charles, and, againperceiving that he was on a false scent, broke off abruptly. "Iflove can make mademoiselle happy--," he said; and a gesture of hisright arm seemed to indicate that his passion was beyond themeasure of words.

So Charles Darragon was permitted to pay his addresses to Desiree inthe somewhat formal manner of a day which, upon carefulconsideration, will be found to have been no more foolish than thepresent. He made no inquiries respecting Desiree's parentage. Itwas Desiree he wanted, and that was all. They comprehended the artsof love and war in the great days of the Empire.