tercourse with the fair Madame Prévost. Now that I had her truculent husband under my thumb, for I held exposure over him like the sword of Damocles, I was free to see as much of her as I chose. People eat and sleep, breathe and hope, though danger may lie down with them by night and draw their curtains with the day; at such times the most marked difference is that life goes with a faster foot, so that my intimacy with my charming rescuer grew at a pace altogether disproportionate to the hours.

On the evening of the 24th of July, when capitulation was unavoidable, when our fire was so weak that it was more like funeral guns than a defence, and our one anxiety was to obtain honorable terms, Madame Prévost came to me in a sad state of distraction.

"Chevalier," she said, "it is hopeless! No matter what the commandant may resolve, we are betrayed. Prévost will force them to accept any terms, no matter how great the humiliation. It is nothing to him so long as he escapes;

but it is death to me. I have been despised all these years on account of my connection with him; I have suffered tortures of shame daily through the siege, and now it is to be crowned with this height of infamy. I cannot bear it. I cannot look upon it." And the poor distracted creature fell to sobbing and weeping as if her very heart would break.

When she had recovered somewhat she revealed her design, which was that, should Prévost succeed in forcing the commandant to the disgraceful surrender we all feared, she and I would escape together.

I was much moved by her generous offer, for generous it was beyond a doubt. I have known too much of women not to recognize when full credit should be given to their virtues, and if Madame Prévost had a second thought beyond escaping from the disgrace of the capitulation, then I know nothing of the sex.

"My dearest madame," I answered, warmly, "tis quite out of the question."

"Why? I have seen old Gourdeau,

the pilot: his two sons have a boat at my service. They know every hole and corner of the harbor, and will do anything for me."

"The boat is not the question, my dear madame; it is yourself I am thinking of." Well, I am ready. I will have everything in readiness; if the capitulation be not signed by nightfall, it will be by the morning, and the moment it is determined on, you are frec. We can easily pass out by the wicket near the Brouillon Bastion, and the Gourdean will be at their post. I have thought of everything."

Pardon me, madame; you have thought of everything save yourself. Have you thought of what the world will say to your flight with me? It will only credit you with motives of which I know you have never dreamed ?"

"Oh mon Dieu, monsieur! this is cruel of you!" she cried, much distressed. "I was thinking as much of you as of myself." "You were, I am sure, thinking more of me than of yourself, and for this I speak plainly, madame. I am overcome with your generosity, but my appreciation of it is too high to allow you, an honorable woman, to wreck your good name for my sake. I cannot go among the English, where you might be unrecognized, but where I am still a proscribed rebel; you cannot go among your own people to Quebec, where you would but suffer a martyrdom for your courage and sacrifice. No, no, my dear madame, believe me, it is not to be thought of!"

Here she began to cry again, somewhat to my relief, for I saw that her resolution was giving way.

for a

would infallibly be captured or starved, woman cannot put up with the hardships of such a venture. I had some months of it in Scotland after the Forty-five, and I know what it means. To lodge à la belle étoile, and to dine with Duke Humphrey, as we English put it, may be the highest romance, but I assure you the quarters are draughty in the one, and the table bare with the other."

As I spoke her face brightened, and by the time I made an end she took both my hands and said, determinedly: "Then, mon ami, you shall go alone. I will have everything in readiness, and I do it for you with all my heart-the more so that your refusal makes it better worth the doing," she added, with an attempt at a laugh, and then turned and ran off, that she might not discover her feelings further.

It was a surprising outcome, and much as I regretted the seemingly ungracious part I was forced to play, I could not but rejoice at the opportunity offered of escaping from English hands, particularly those of such regiments as Lee's, Lascelles's, or Warburton's, my old opponents in Scotland. There was no difficulty in carrying out the simple plan, for, in providing the boat and the men, Madame Prévost had overcome the one obstacle. Hostilities would be suspended, vigilance would be relaxed, and if the capitulation were not signed before nightfall, it would be an easy matter to gain the harbor, and under cover of the night to pass the enemy's batteries and make some unguarded point on the coast beyond their lines before day.

It fell out much as we had anticipated. M. de Drucour demanded the same terms as those extended to the English at Port Mahon, in Minorca. These were refused, and he resolved, with our unanimous consent, to abide by the assault. But Prévost was at work, and so artfully did he play on our commandant that by eleven o'clock the same night, July 25, 1758, the terms of the harsh capitulation were accepted.

At midnight, the capitulation being completed, I passed out by the Brouillon Bastion, found the men with their shallop in readiness, and stepping in, said, in answer to their query:

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

་ ་་

THE

T was the 17th of March, yet the sun shone brilliantly, and the air was soft and balmy as on any July day. Even the good Saint Patrick could have found no possible cause for complaint..

Most of the invalids about the hotel had ventured forth upon the terrace, and sat in groups of twos and threes basking in the sunshine. Their more fortunate brethren who were sojourning merely for rest after the arduous duties of a social season had long since taken themselves off to the pursuits best suited to their inclinations and livers.

One exception, however, there was to this general rule. A young man of some thirty years of age, who, seated upon the first step of a series leading from the terrace to the road, seemed quite content to enjoy the warmth and sunshine in a purely passive way.

To some of those seated in their invalidchairs it seemed as if he had not moved or changed his position for hours, and after a while his absolute repose rather irritated them.

Nevertheless, he sat there with his elbows resting on his knees and a cigarette between his lips. The cigarette had long gone out, but to all appearances he was blissfully unconscious of the fact.

A pair of rather attractive eyes were gazing into space, and at times there was a fine, sensitive expression about his lips, but the rest of his features were commonplace, neither good nor bad. His face being smooth-shaven gave him from a distance a decided'y boyish appearance.

There was something, however, about him which might be termed interesting, something a trifle lifferent from his

neighbors. Even his clothes had that slight difference that hardly can be explained.

After a while his attention was drawn to a very smart-looking trap, half dog and half training cart, which for the past fifteen minutes had been driven up and down by the most diminutive of grooms. Slowly he took in every detail, the highactioned hackney, the handsome harness, the livery of the groom, even the wicker basket under the seat with its padlock hanging on the hasp. Lazily he attempted to decipher the monogram on the cart's shining sides, but without success. Five minutes more passed, and still up and down drove the groom. Was its owner never coming? he thought. Surely it must be a woman to keep it waiting such a time. Little by little he became more interested in the vehicle, and incidentally in its mistress, and he found himself conjecturing as to what manner of person this was. Was she tall or short, fat or lean, good figure or bad. On the whole, he thought she must be "horsy." That probably expressed it all.

How long these conjectures would have lasted it would be hard to say, had not just then the owner of the trap and horse and diminutive groom herself put in an appearance. She came out of the hotel entrance drawing on one tan-colored glove about three times too big for a rather pretty hand. She wore a lightcolored driving coat which reached to her heels, and adorned with mother-of-pearl buttons big enough to be used for saucers. As she passed down the steps he had a good opportunity to take her in, and when she stopped to give the horse a lump of sugar, a still better chance for observation was afforded,

He could hardly say whether she was good-looking or not; he was inclined to think she was. She had a very winning smile this he noticed as she gave some instructions to the groom. On the whole his verdict was rather flattering than otherwise, for she impressed him as being decidedly smart, and that with him covered a multitude of sins.

At last she took up her skirts and

stepped into the cart, gathered up the lines, and drew the whip from its socket. The groom scrambled up somehow, and after a little preliminary pawing of the air, the horse and cart, driver and groom, disappeared down the road.

"Hello, Jack! What are you doing here sitting in the sun? Come along and have a game of golf with me."

66

Thanks! By-the-bye, do you know who that young woman is who has just driven off?"

"Certainly; Miss Violet Easton, of Washington; very fond of horses; keeps a lot of hunters; rich as mud. Would you like to know her?"

"Yes. Much obliged for the information. Oh, play golf? No; it's a very overrated game; you had better count me out this morning."

An hour later, when she returned, had she taken the trouble to notice, she would have seen him still sitting at the top of the same flight of steps, seemingly absorbed in nothing.

II.

Three weeks had now passed since that 17th day of March, and Jack Mordant had been introduced to Miss Easton; d walked and driven with Miss Easton; had ridden Miss Easton's horses to the hunt three times a week-in fact, had been seen so much in the society of the young woman that gossips had already begun to couple their names.

If, however, Miss Easton and Mr. Mordaunt were aware of this fact, it seemed in no wise to trouble them, nor to cause their meetings to be less frequent. A very close observer might, if he had taken the trouble to observe, have noticed that on these various occasions Miss Easton's color would be slightly accentuated, and that there was a perceptible increase in the interest she was wont to vouchsafe to the ordinary public. But then there were, no close observers, or if there were they had other things to interest them.

On this particular day-it was then about 2 P.M.-Jack Mordaunt leaned lazily against the office desk, deeply absorbed in the perusal of a letter. The furrow that was quite distinct between his eyes would seem to indicate that the contents of the same were far from agreeable.

Twice already had he read the epistle, and was now engaged in going over it for the third time.

He was faultlessly attired in his hunting things, this being Saturday and the run of the week. Whatever disagreeableness may have occurred, Jack Mordaunt was at least a philosopher, and had no intention of missing a meet so long as Miss Easton was willing to see that he was well mounted. His single-breasted pink frock-coat was of the latest cut, and his white moleskin breeches and black pink-top boots were the best that London makers could turn out. His silk hat and gloves lay upon the office desk beside him.

"You seem vastly absorbed in that letter, Mr. Mordaunt; this is the second time I have tried to attract your attention, but with little success. I trust the contents are more than interesting. "

Jack whirled round to find himself face to face with Miss Easton. Try as he would, the telltale blood slowly

'At Farmingdale, and that is twelve miles away."

Together they walked down the wide corridor, and many an admiring glance was bestowed upon them as they passed, and many an insinuating wink and shrug was given as soon as their backs were turned.

Together they passed through the hotel door on to the terrace and down the steps -those same steps upon which Jack Mordaunt had sat just three weeks ago and watched her drive away. There was the same trap waiting, the same diminutivelooking groom standing at the horse's head. He helped her in, a trifle more tenderly, perhaps, than was absolutely necessary. Then he mounted to the seat beside her, and away they drove, the groom behind hanging on as by his eyelids.

THEIR HOMEWARD JOURNEY.

All during those twelve miles they talked together of anything and everything, save on the one subject which was uppermost in their minds. Religiously they abstained from discussing themselves, and yet they knew that sooner or later that subject would have to be broached.

Instinctively, however, they both avoided it, as if in their hearts they knew that from it no good could come.

At Farmingdale, as they drove into the stable-yard behind the little country tavern, all thoughts but of the hunt were banished, at least for the moment. They were both too keen about the sport not to feel their pulses quicken at the familiar scene and sounds.

All the hunters had been sent over in the morning, and stood ready in the adjoining stalls and sheds; grooms were