"I have heard it," said Doolittle feebly. He had, in common with a great many other people. He had heard that the poilus had given her the name in some fanatic belief that she was a sort of fairy ministering to them and bringing them good luck. They gave her a devout worship and affection that had guarded her like a halo through all the years of the war. But she had not needed their protection. It was said that a convalescent soldier had once offered her an insult, a man she herself had nursed. She had knifed him as neatly as an apache could have done and other soldiers had finished the job before they could be interfered with. French law had, for once, overlooked the matter, rather than have a mutiny in the army. Doolittle began to doubt the complete humor in his idea, but its dramatic possibilities were enhanced by this revelation. Of course this spitfire would never marry a common soldier, either American or of any other race. He did not doubt that she claimed descent from the Navarrese royal family and the Bourbons, to judge from her name. But then De Launay was certainly not an ordinary soldier. His very extraordinariness was what qualified him in Doolittle's mind. The affair, indeed, began to interest him as a beautiful problem in humanity. De Launay was rich, of course, but he did not believe that mademoiselle was mercenary. If she had been she would not have saved her inheritance for the purpose of squandering it on a wild-goose chase worthy of the "Arabian Nights." Anyway De Launay had no use for money, and mademoiselle probably had. However, he had no intention of telling her of De Launay's situation. He had a notion that Morgan _la fée_ would be driven off by that knowledge. "But, mademoiselle, it is not necessary that you marry a rough and common soldier. Surely there are officers, gentlemen, distinguished, whom one of your charms might win?" "We will not bring my charms into the discussion, monsieur," said Solange. "I reject the idea that I should marry in order to get to America. I have serious business before me, and not such business as I could bring into a husband's family--unless, indeed, he were a Basque. But, then, there are no Basques whom I could marry." "I wouldn't suggest a Basque," said Doolittle. "But I believe there is one whom you could wed without compromising your intentions. Indeed, I believe the only chance you would have to marry him would be by telling him all about them. He is, or was, an American, it is true, but he has been French for many years and he is not a common soldier. I refer to General de Launay." "General de Launay!" repeated Solange wonderingly. "Why, he is a distinguished man, monsieur!"