Did you tell it for me ?" "Yes, Mademoiselle, in thanks and in contrition.

We are all prisoners in this world; but while it is certain you have made fortitude easier for us, I have suspected that there was a time when I, for one, might have been bolder and repaid you, but stood aside.

Also, I think you no longer require help." "No longer, General.

But what you say is true: we are all prisoners here, or sentries at the best." And Dorothea, resting her fan on her lap, let these lines fall from her, not consciously quoting, but musing on each word as it fell: "Brutus and Cato might discharge their souls, And give them furloughs for another world; But we, like sentries, are obliged to stand In starless nights, and wait the appointed hour." The General stared.
"Ah, Mademoiselle, what poet taught you that ?" "It was a kinswoman," she answered, and caught herself blushing.

"I do not know the author." * * * * * * * * * The secret of the Commissary's dinner-party came out early next morning, when the call came for the prisoners to leave Axcester.