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D'RI AND I affair we had had to do with. Well, as I have said before, we were ever at our best with a sabre, and big guns were out of our line.

We went into hospital awhile, D'ri having caught cold and gone out of his head with fever. We had need of a spell on our backs, for what with all our steeplechasing over yawning graves—that is the way I always think of it—we were somewhat out of breath. No news had reached me of the count or the young ladies, and I took some worry to bed with me, but was up in a week and ready for more trouble, I had to sit with D'ri awhile before he could mount a horse.

September was nearing its last day when we got off a brig at the Harbor. We were no sooner at the dock than some one began to tell us of a new plan for the invasion of Canada. I knew Brown had had no part in it, for he said in my hearing once that it was too big a chunk to bite off.

There were letters from the count and Thérèse, his daughter. They had news for me, and would I not ride over as soon as I had returned? My mother—dearest and best of mothers—had