"Yes. Then you must know?" There was relief in her words. "No. I have merely wondered why they called you that." "It is on account of my eyes. They are--queer, perhaps. And my hair, which I also hide under the cap. The poor soldiers ascribe all sorts of--of virtues to them. Magic qualities, which, of course, is silly. And others--are not so kind." In De Launay's mind was running a verse from William Morris' "Earthly Paradise." He quoted it, in English: "The fairest of all creatures did she seem; So fresh and delicate you well might deem That scarce for eighteen summers had she blessed The happy, longing earth; yet, for the rest Within her glorious eyes such wisdom dwelt A child before her had the wise man felt." "Is that it?" he murmured to himself. To his surprise, for he had not thought that she spoke English, she answered him. "It is not. It is my eyes; yes, but they are not to be described so flatteringly." Yet she was smiling and the blush had spread again to cheeks and chin, flushing them delightfully. "It is a superstition of these ignorant poilus. And of others, also. In fact, there are some who are afraid." "Well," said De Launay, "I have never had the reputation of being either ignorant or afraid. Also--there is Ogier?" "What?" "Who plays the rôle of the Danish Paladin?" Mademoiselle blushed again. "He is not in the story this time," she said. "I hardly qualify, you would say. Perhaps not. But there is more. Where is Avalon and what other names have you? You remember "Know thou, that thou art come to Avalon, That is both thine and mine; and as for me, Morgan le Fay men call me commonly Within the world, but fairer names than this I have---- "What are they?" "I am Solange d'Albret, monsieur. I am from the Basses Pyrenees. A Basque, if you please. If my name is distinguished, I am not. On the contrary, I am very poor, having but enough to finance this trip to America and the search that is to follow." "And Avalon--where is that? Where is the place that you go to in America?" She opened a small hand bag and took from it a notebook which she consulted. "America is a big place. It is not likely that you would know it, or the man that I must look for. Here it is. The place is called 'Twin Forks,' and it is near the town of Sulphur Falls, in the State of Idaho. The man is Monsieur Isaac Brandon." In the silence, she looked up, alarmed to see De Launay, who was clutching the edge of the table and staring at her as though she had struck him. "Why, what is the matter?" she cried. De Launay laughed out loud. "Twin Forks! Ike Brandon! Mademoiselle, what do you seek in Twin Forks and from old Ike Brandon?" Mademoiselle, puzzled and alarmed, answered slowly.