"Who is this fellow, who, like Charles Lee, fights against his own country?" asked Andre. "No one you ever knew, John," replied Mobray; "but I, who do, have it not in my heart to blame him." "Wilt not tell us his history?" begged Janice, eagerly. "Once he said his great-grandfather was King of England, and since then I've so longed to know it!" "'T is truth he spoke, poor fellow, but he was an old-time friend of mine, which would be enough to seal my lips respecting his sorry tale, since he wishes oblivion for it. But I am his debtor as well, for he it was who helped me to a prompt exchange when I was taken prisoner last spring." "Of course I would not have thee tell me anything that is secret," remarked Janice. Then, after a moment, she went on, "There is, however, something of which you may be able to inform me?" "But name your desire." "I must get it," announced the girl, and she left the room and went upstairs. But once in the upper hallway, she did not go to her room, merely pausing long enough to take the miniature from its abiding spot, and then returned. "Wilt tell me if the diamonds are false?" she requested, placing the ornament in Andre's hand. "No, for a certainty," replied the captain. "Then is it not worth five pounds?" exclaimed Janice. "Five pounds," laughed Andre, derisively. "'T is easily worth five hundred!" "Oh, never!" cried the girl. "Ay. Am I not right, Mobray?" "Beyond question. And then 't is not worth the portrait it encircles," asserted Mobray, gallantly. "And yet I could not get one pound for it," marvelled Janice, and told the two officers how she had sought to barter it. "'T is evident you asked too little, Miss Meredith," surmised Andre, "and so made him suspect your title." "Would that you might offer it to me at a hundred times five pounds!" bemoaned the baronet. "To think of such a pearl being cast before such swine "Who painted it, Miss Meredith?" asked Andre. "'T was Colonel Brereton." Mobray looked up quickly at her, then once more at the miniature. He turned it over, and as the initials on the back caught his eye, he frowned, but more with intentness than anger. For a moment he held it, then handed it to Janice with the remark, "Know you the frame's history?" "Only that it once held another portrait, and that of a most beautiful girl." "Whom he forgot, it appears, once you were seen, for which small blame to him, Miss Meredith," replied Mobray, as he rose and left the room, his face set sternly, as if he were fighting some emotion. For two days the young officers continued to get infinite amusement out of the rebel news, but on the third their gibes and flouts ceased, and a sudden gravity ensued, the cause of which was explained to the women that evening when the time had come for "good-night."