The chevalier examined them through his glass with smiling nonchalance; but Captain Brand looked over the scene with thoughtful brow. "What is monsieur's programme?" chirped the chevalier. "Does he dally with Fortune's train, or does he brush by her robes and seize the treasure which she guards? Shall _mon ami_ live the short and merry life of conviviality with me in New York, or shall he choose the short and beastly bad career of a soldier?" St. Udo Brand laughed bitterly. "What is my life worth to me without fame to gild it?" growled he. "I have no gold to make it shine." "_Bravissima!_" shouted the chevalier, clapping his hands; then, with a smile which just showed his long teeth in a hungry arch, "I, too, will go southward, because, that to me my life is very much worth, and I will do bravely to gild it with--gold. We will be brother colonels, _mon ami_, and Thoms--what shall you do?" Thoms' evil face beamed with intelligence. "I'll follow you masters as long as you _live_," uttered the smooth voice, humbly. "We shall fight, by gar, for glory!" cried the chevalier. "At least, we shall say so. But each has his motive pardieu, and a sensible motive is mine. Ah, life is nothing without illusions, as Mendelssohn says." "Nothing indeed," smiled the silent lips of Thoms, "nothing indeed." Thus these three chose to walk together the road which had been apportioned them by that secret Power behind the scene, bound close together by Circumstance's chain, yet sundered in soul by walls as deep as dungeon walls, and the dusty banners, and golden rewards, and whistling balls of the battle-field beckoned to each with a separate welcome. "Here you will win glory," they cried to St. Udo Brand. "Here you will win gold," they whispered to Calembours. "We promise you _death_!" they sighed to Thoms. So the three men followed the beckoning hand, and entered the contest. Some weeks passed. It was their last evening in New York. On the morrow they would be en route for the army. Captain Brand and the Chevalier de Calembours had staid at the same hotel, and were, of course, tolerably confidential with each other. Thoms divided his attentions, with marked impartiality, between his master and his master's friend, and lost no opportunity of ingratiating himself with the cynical captain. This evening Captain Brand was writing letters; the chevalier was serenely smoking on the balcony. Thoms silently plodded through the packing of their traveling-bags in a corner. "One, two--there are three letters," said the captain, throwing down his pen. "Thoms, you dog, post these." A scornful smile was on his lip. He picked up a photograph from his desk and pored over it eagerly. The cold, superior smile melted from his scornful mouth; the keen raillery vanished from his eyes; he regarded the pictured face almost in despair. Thoms, creeping behind his chair to reach for the letters, took a keen survey of the card he held.