"Jerushy Jane Pepper!" said D'ri, as he sat, rifle on his knee, looking at his prisoners. "Never thought nobody c'u'd luk s' joemightyful cur'us. Does mek a man humly t' hev any trouble with them air willy-come-bobs." He meant wasps. I had had no opportunity for more than a word with the young ladies. I hoped it might come when I went in for a hasty breakfast with the baroness, the count, the general, and Mr. Parish. As we were eating, Louison came in hurriedly. She showed some agitation. "What is the trouble, my dear?" said the baroness, in French. "Eh bien, only this," said she: "I have dropped my ring in the brook. It is my emerald. I cannot reach it." "Too bad! She has dropped her ring in the brook," said the baroness, in English, turning to me. "If she will have the kindness to take me there," I said to the hostess, rising as I spoke, "I shall try to get it for her." "M'sieur le Capitaine, you are very obliging," said she. Then, turning to Louison, she added in French: "Go with him. He will recover it for you." It pleased and flattered me, the strategy of this wonderful young creature. She led me, with dainty steps, through a dewy garden walk into the trail. "Parbleu!" she whispered, "is it not a shame to take you from your meat? But I could not help it. I had to see you; there is something I wish to say." "A pretty girl is better than meat," I answered quickly. "I am indebted to you." "My! but you have a ready tongue," said she. "It is with me a pleasure to listen. You are going away? You shall not return--perhaps?" She was trying to look very gay and indifferent, but in her voice I could detect a note of trouble. The flame of passion, quenched for a little time by the return of peril and the smoke of gunpowder, flashed up in me. "It is this," she went on: "I may wish you to do me a favor. May I have your address?" "And you may command me," I said as I gave it to her. "Have a care!" she said, laughing. "I may ask you to do desperate things--you may need all your valor. The count and the baroness--they may send us back to France." "Which will please you," I remarked. "Perhaps," she said quickly. "Mon Dieu! I do not know what I want; I am a fool. Take this. Wear it when you are gone. Not that I care--but--it will make you remember." She held in her fingers a flashing emerald on a tiny circlet of gold. Before I could answer she had laid it in my hard palm and shut my hand upon it. "Dieu!" she exclaimed, whispering, "I must return--I must hurry. Remember, we did not find the ring." I felt a great impulse to embrace her and confess my love. But I was not quick enough. Before I could speak she had turned away and was running. I called to her, but she did not turn or seem to hear me. She and my opportunity were gone. We stowed the prisoners in the big coach at the baroness, behind a lively team of four. Then my horse and one for D'ri were brought up.