"I will try," agreed the Commandant, after a painful pause. "But it will be hard; harder perhaps than you can understand. Honours have come to you--deservedly, I admit----" "And too late," Sir Ommaney again took him up. "My dear Vigoureux, when we knew one another in the old days, honours seemed to both of us the most desirable thing in the world. Believe me, they always come too late." The Commandant looked at him for a moment. "Yes," said he at length, "we have talked enough of ourselves. And what do we matter, after all?" They walked back to the Barracks together, side by side, discussing, as one soldier with another, the problem which the one had opened, on which the other had brooded in silence for years. Arrived at his quarters, the Commandant applied the poker to his fire, motioned Sir Ommaney to the worn armchair, excused himself, and hurried off to seek Archelaus and discuss the chances of a cup of tea. Sir Ommaney, left to himself, took a glance round the poverty-stricken room, and stretched out his long legs to the blaze. The evening air without had been chilly. The sea-coal in the grate, stirred by the Commandant's poker, woke to a warm glow with a small dancing flame on top. Sir Ommaney stared into the glow, lost in thought.... A tapping on the pane awoke him out of his brown study. He sat upright, but almost with the same motion he sprang to his feet as a hand pushed open the window behind him. There was no light in the room save that afforded by the dancing, uncertain flame. It wavered, as he turned about, upon the figure of a woman entering confidently across the sill, and upon a face at sight of which he drew back almost in terror. "Pass, friend, and all's well!" said Vashti, with a light laugh, as she effected her entrance. Then, catching sight of the man confronting her, she caught at the curtain, and said, simply, "O-oh!" "Lord, bless my soul!" exclaimed Sir Ommaney, in a low voice, but fervently. "I--I thought you were the Commandant," stammered Vashti, for once in this history taken thoroughly aback. "Mademoiselle Cara!... You? And here, of all places in the world!" But upon this they both turned, as the door opened and the Commandant stood on the threshold. "Miss Vashti!" The Commandant stared from one to the other. Vashti broke the silence with her ready laugh. "Sir Ommaney Ward and I have met before. He does not know that this is my native home; but"--she dropped them both a curtsey--"the point is that you are both to come with me, and at once." CHAPTER XXVIII THE FINDING