"I suppose you've quite forgotten me, Mistress Vaga?" he said, when Sabrina was out of hearing. "You give me credit for a very short memory, Captain Trevor," she promptly returned, but in no unkindly tone. "Why should you think I've forgotten you?" "Oh! so many matters and events since I last had the pleasure of seeing you. And you've met so many other people, more interesting than myself, I could hardly hope for your bearing me in mind." He spoke in a subdued, humble way, unlike his old swagger; which had the effect of still farther inclining her to kindness. As yet, however, it was but sympathy for his misfortunes. "But, Captain Trevor, all that would not justify me in forgetting a friend; as I think you were, and would have continued, but for these troubles that have turned so many friends to foes." "No one regrets them more than I; and for the best of reasons." He had a reason for regretting them in the fact of his being a prisoner. No light matter just then; for, though not kept confined in a prison, he might at any moment be cast into one, only to be led forth from it to execution. The King had not yet ceased fulminating his threats of retaliation; and, should these be carried out, he, in all likelihood, would be among the foremost of its victims. He was not speaking the truth, however, in saying he regretted the troubles. As a soldier of fortune they were bread to him, promising fame with promotion. He might look to regaining his liberty by exchange, or otherwise, and once more get upon the ladder of ascent. Nor had the reasons he spoke of aught to do with his being a prisoner; though she seemed, or affected, so to understand them. "Indeed, yes," she rejoined, "you have been very unfortunate, Captain Trevor. I'm sorry you should have been taken; still more, fighting on the side you were." "Oh, thank you!" he returned, encouraged by her kind words, and without heeding the last clause. "But 'tis not for that I care. What makes me regret the war is the loss of friendships. And," he added, speaking in a lower tone, but more impressively, "the fear of having lost yours." "But you have not, sir--so much as it is worth. My father was angry in those days; so were we all. But, then, you were not to blame--we could not think that, did not--knowing you acted under orders." "Ah! never had I an order to execute so much against my wish, never one with such disagreeable consequences, separating me so long from--" He hesitated to say whom or what. But, mistaking her look of simple inquiry for one of a more interested nature, he completed the speech with one other word--"yourself." She started, looking a little confused, but remained silent; which he, again misinterpreting, took as a permission to go on, which he did, with increased fervour.