His slim figure stiffened even as his face became more stern.

Clad in the full regimentals of his rank, he made a not unmanly figure as he stood there, though hardly taller than this splendid woman whom he addressed--a woman somewhat reserved, mocking, enigmatic; but, as he had said, charming.

That last word of description had been easy for any man who had seen her, with her long-lashed dark eyes, her clear cheek just touched with color, her heavy dark hair impossible to conceal even under its engulfing bonnet, her wholly exquisite and adequate figure equally unbanished even by the trying costume of the day.

She stood erect, easy, young, strong, fit to live; and that nature had given her confidence in herself was evidenced now in the carriage of head and body as she walked to and fro, pausing to turn now and then, impatient, uneasy, like some caged creature, as lithe, as beautiful, as dangerous and as puzzling in the matter of future conduct.

Even as he removed his cap, Carlisle turned to her, a man's admiration in his eyes, a gentleman's trouble also there.
[Illustration: Carlisle turned, a man's admiration in his eyes] "My dear Countess St.Auban," said he, more formally, "I wish that you might never use that word with me again,--jailer! I am only doing my duty as a soldier.