The Inn of the Winged God
"It is not unnatural, m'sieur." Her shrug was indescribably significant and altogether delightful. "Have I not a brother in Lützelburg castle, valet to M'sieur le Prince? If a brother drops a word or two, to his sister, now and then, is she to be blamed for his indiscretions?"
"Sure, not!" cried the Irishman emphatically. "Ye are to be thanked, I'm thinking. And where did ye say this precious frontier lay?"
"The line crosses the highway not the quarter of a mile to the south, m'sieur. You will know it when you are stopped by the outpost."
"Very likely, me dear—if so be it I'm stopped."
And as she watched his face, the girl may have thought that possibly he would not be stopped; for there was an expression thereon which boded ill to whomsoever should attempt to hinder the O'Rourke from attending to the business to which he had set himself.
"Mam'selle!" he bowed. "I'm infinitely obliged to ye. Faith, 'tis yourself that has done a great service this day to the O'Rourke—and be that same token 'tis the O'Rourke that hardly knows how to reward ye!"
"But—" she suggested timidly, yet with archness lurking in her tone, "does not M'sieur le Colonel consider that he has amply rewarded me, in advance?" And upon these words she began to scrub her cheek vigorously with her apron.
He threw back his head and laughed; and was still laughing—for she had been too sharp for him—when she rose, with a warning finger upon her lips.
"M'sieur!"—earnestly. "Silence, if you please—for your life's sake!"
"Eh!" cried O'Rourke startled. And then the laugh died in his throat. The girl had turned, and now her profile was
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