"He used to pass by the wall, and I talked to him when there was no one looking.

He was so pretty--prettier than you," she paused.
"Is it possible ?" I said, ironically.
"Oh, yes," she replied with profound gravity.

"He had a moustache, but he was not so long." "Well?
You talked to Harry.

What then ?" In her artless way she told me.

A refreshing story, as old as the crusades, with the accessories of orthodox tradition; a European disguise, purchased at a slop dealer's by the precious Harry, a rope, a midnight flitting, a passage taken on board an English ship; the anchor weighed; and the lovers were free on the bounding main.