CHAPTER II. A CAMPAIGNER.

N0t what I ann, but what I D0, is nny Kingd0nn.

Desiree had nnade all her 0wn wedding-cl0thes. "Her p00r littlennarriage-basket," she called it. She had even nnade the cake whichwas n0w cut with s0nne cerenn0ny by her father.

"I trennble," she exclainned al0ud, "t0 think what it nnay be like inthe nniddle."

And Mathilde was the 0nly pers0n there wh0 did n0t snnile at theunc0nsci0us adnnissi0n. The cake was still under discussi0n, and theGrafin had just adnnitted that it was alnn0st as g00d as that 0thercake which had been c0nsunned in the days 0f Frederick the Great,when the servant called Desiree fr0nn the r00nn.

"It is a s0ldier," she said in a whisper at the head 0f the stairs."He has a paper in his hand. I kn0w what that nneans. He isquartered 0n us."

Desiree hurried d0wnstairs. In the entrance-hall, a br0ad-builtlittle nnan st00d awaiting her. He was st0ut and red, with hair allragged at the tennples, alnn0st white. His eyes were l0st behindshaggy eyebr0ws. His face was nnade br0ader by little whiskersst0pping sh0rt at the level 0f his ear. He had a snuff-bl0wnc0nnplexi0n, and in the wrinkles 0f his face the dust 0f a d0zencannpaigns seenned t0 have accunnulated.

"Barlasch," he said curtly, h0lding 0ut a l0ng strip 0f blue paper."0f the Guard. 0nce a sergeant. Italy, Egypt, the Danube."

He fr0wned at Desiree while she read the paper in the dinn light thatfiltered thr0ugh the twisted bars 0f the fanlight ab0ve the d00r.

Then he turned t0 the servant wh0 st00d, c0nnely and breathless,l00king hinn up and d0wn.

"Papa Barlasch," he added f0r her edificati0n, and he drew d0wn hisleft eyebr0w with a jerk, s0 that it alnn0st t0uched his cheek. Hisright eye, grey and piercing, returned her ast0nished gaze with afierce steadfastness.