ONE OF THE 28TH

A Tale of Waterloo

by

G. A. HENTY

Author of _Bonnie Prince Charlie_, _With Clive in India_, _The Dragonand the Raven_, _The Young Carthaginian_, _The Lion of the North_

Illustrated

A. L. Burt CompanyPublishers, New York

PREFACE

Although in the present story a boy plays the principal part, andencounters many adventures by land and sea, a woman is the realheroine, and the part she played demanded an amount of nerve andcourage fully equal to that necessary for those who take part inactive warfare. Boys are rather apt to think, mistakenly, that theirsex has a monopoly of courage, but I believe that in moments of greatperil women are to the full as brave and as collected as men. Indeed, my own somewhat extensive experience leads me to go even further, andto assert that among a civil population, untrained to arms, theaverage woman is cooler and more courageous than the average man. Women are nervous about little matters; they may be frightened at amouse or at a spider; but in the presence of real danger, when shellsare bursting in the streets, and rifle bullets flying thickly, I haveseen them standing kitting at their doors and talking to their friendsacross the street when not a single man was to be seen. 

There is no greater mistake than to think women cowards because theyare sometimes nervous over trifles. Were it necessary, innumerablecases could be quoted from history to prove that women can, uponoccasion, fight as courageously as men. Cćsar found that the women ofthe German tribes could fight bravely side by side with the men, andthe Amazons of the King of Dahomey are more feared by the neighboringtribes than are his male soldiers. Almost every siege has its femaleheroines, and in the Dutch War of Independence the female companies atSluys and Haarlem proved themselves a match for the best soldiers ofSpain. Above all, in patient endurance of pain and suffering, womenare immeasurably superior to men. I emphasize this point because Iknow that many boys, simply because they are stronger than girls, areapt to regard them with a sort of contempt, and to fancy themselveswithout the least justification, not only stronger but braver and morecourageous--in fact superior beings in every way. 

G. A. HENTY

CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. Unexpected News

CHAPTER II. A Country Visit

CHAPTER III. Run Down

CHAPTER IV. The Privateer's Rendezvous

CHAPTER V. The British Cruisers

CHAPTER VI. Home Again

CHAPTER VII. A Commission

CHAPTER VIII. Startling News

CHAPTER IX. Mr. Tallboys' Visitor

CHAPTER X. On Detachment

CHAPTER XI. Still-Hunting

CHAPTER XII. The Cave Among the Rocks

CHAPTER XIII. More Startling News

CHAPTER XIV. The New Housemaid

CHAPTER XV. In Belgium

CHAPTER XVI. Found at Last

CHAPTER XVII. Quatre Bras

CHAPTER XVIII. Waterloo

CHAPTER XIX. The Rout

CHAPTER I. 

UNEXPECTED NEWS. 

"I have written to ask Ralph Conway to come and stay for a time withme. " The announcement was a simple one, but it fell like a bombshellin the midst of the party at breakfast at Penfold Hall. The partyconsisted only of the speaker, Herbert Penfold, and his two sisters. The latter both exclaimed "Herbert!" in a tone of shocked surprise. Mr. Penfold was evidently prepared for disapprobation; he had spokenin a somewhat nervous tone, but with a decision quite unusual to him. He had finished his last piece of toast and emptied his last cup oftea before making the announcement, and he now pushed back his chair, rose to his feet, and said: "Yes; I have been thinking of having himhere for some time, and I suppose that as master of this house I am atliberty to ask whom I like; at any rate I would rather have nodiscussion on the subject. "

So saying, without giving his sisters time to reply, he walked hastilyto the door and went out. Miss Penfold and Miss Eleanor Penfold gazedat each other in speechless astonishment. So accustomed were they tosettle everything that took place at Penfold Hall, that this suddenassumption of authority on the part of their brother fairly staggeredthem. Miss Penfold was the first to speak:

"This is terrible, Eleanor! To think that after all these yearsHerbert's thoughts should still be turning toward that woman. But itis only what might be expected. The ingratitude of men is terrible. Here we have for the last twenty years been devoting our lives tohim--not only keeping his house for him, but seeing that he did notfall a victim to any of the designing women who would have insinuatedthemselves into his good graces, and preventing him from indulging inall sorts of foolish tastes and bringing himself to ruin; and now yousee he turns again to that artful woman, and, without saying a word tous, invites her son to come here. It is monstrous, sister!"

"It is monstrous, " Miss Eleanor Penfold repeated, with tears in hereyes. "It is like flying in the face of Providence, sister. "

"It is flying in our faces, " Miss Penfold replied sharply; "and justat the present moment that is of more importance. To think that thatman must have been brooding over this, and making up his mind to actin this way for weeks perhaps, and never to say a word to us upon thesubject. I wonder he didn't ask the woman herself down!"

"He never could have done such a shameless thing, Charlotte, " hersister said much shocked. "Of course, we must have left the houseinstantly. "

"I should not have left the house, " Miss Penfold said firmly. "If thewoman comes--and now he has asked the boy it is quite possible that hemay ask the mother--our duty will be to remain here. You know we havebeen uneasy ever since her husband died. Herbert's infatuationconcerning her has been pitiable, and we have always believed it hasbeen that alone which has caused him to refuse so obstinately to enterinto our plans, or to pay even decent courtesy to the variousexcellent young women we have from time to time asked down here, andwho were in every way suitable for the position of mistress of thishouse--women full of sense, and who, with right guidance, would havemade him perfectly happy. And now he flies in our faces and asks theboy down. I have had an idea for some little time that he has hadsomething on his mind; he has been more nervous and fidgety thanusual, and several times he has seemed to be on the point of sayingsomething, and then changed his mind. Of course, one can understand itall now. No wonder he was ashamed to look us in the face when he wasmeditating such a step as this. The duplicity of man is somethingshocking!"

It was not surprising that Herbert Penfold's sudden assertion of hiswill was a shock to his sisters. These ladies had so long beenaccustomed to rule absolutely at Penfold Hall that Mr. Penfold'sassertion of his right to act as he pleased in his own house came uponthem like an act of absolute rebellion. At their father's death theywere women of twenty-seven and twenty-six years old respectively. Herbert was a lad of sixteen. He was of a gentle and yieldingdisposition; and as their father for some years previous to his deathhad been a confirmed invalid, and they had had the complete managementof the house, it was but natural that at his death they shouldcontinue in the same position. 

Owing to weak health, Herbert had not been sent to school, but hadbeen educated under the care of a tutor. He had wished when he reachedthe age of nineteen to enter one of the universities; but his sistershad been so opposed to the idea, and had represented so strongly tohim his unfitness to take part in the rough sports of the young men, and how completely he would feel out of place in such companionship, that he had abandoned the idea, and had traveled on the Continent forthree years with his tutor, his sisters being for most of the time ofthe party. Soon after his return he had fallen in love with thedaughter of Colonel Vernon, an officer living on half-pay at Poole, which was the nearest town to Penfold Hall. The announcement of hisengagement came like a thunder-clap upon his sisters, who had agreedthat it would be in all respects desirable that Herbert should notmarry for some years. 

They had, however, been wise enough not to offer any open oppositionto the match. Three months later the engagement was broken off. How itcame about no one exactly knew. Unpleasant reports were set on foot;there were misunderstandings which should easily have been cleared up, but which grew until they gave rise to serious quarrels. Letters whichmight have set matters straight somehow failed to come to hand; and soat last things went from bad to worse until there was a final quarrel, a return of letters and presents on both sides, and a final breakingoff of the engagement. A year later Mary Vernon married Mr. Conway, anarchitect, resident in London. 

Mr. Penfold had before this become convinced that Mary Vernon had notbeen to blame in the matter, and that he had in some way or othertaken an altogether mistaken view of the subject. He knew by thecomments of such friends as were intimate enough to speak, and thecoolness of many others, that he was considered to have behaved verybadly toward her. And this thought was a most distressing one, for hewas deeply attached to Mary; and had he not been convinced that fromsome reason or other she herself had ceased to care for him, and wasanxious to break off the engagement, he would have gone any lengthtowards healing the breach. When it was too late he bitterly regrettedhis own weakness in submitting to the domination of his sisters, andfelt a deep though silent resentment against them for the share thathe was convinced they had taken in causing the breach between himselfand Mary Vernon; but although he resented, he had neither the will norfirmness to free himself from their domination. 

At times he struggled feebly against it; and on two or three occasionshad suddenly gone up to town, and thence on to the Continent, and hadtraveled there for weeks. On one of these occasions he had written tothem saying that he thought it would be for the happiness of them allif they were to leave Penfold Hall and set up an establishment oftheir own. But upon his return he found things going on exactly asbefore, and Miss Penfold had spoken somewhat severely of the sillyletter he had written to them, a letter displaying at once suchingratitude and folly that it had been beneath them to notice it. AsHerbert Penfold was in a way really fond of his sisters, who spared noeffort in making his home comfortable for him, and who allowed him tohave his own way in all minor matters, he could not bring himself torepeat when face to face with them the opinion he had expressed inwriting; and so things had gone on for years. 

The Miss Penfolds were really anxious to see their brother married. Provided only that it was to a lady who would be, in their estimation, fitted for him, and who would also have a feeling of gratitude towardsthemselves for their share in installing her as mistress of the Hall, they were quite prepared to abdicate in her favor, and to retire tosome pretty house near a pleasant watering-place, paying visits onceor twice a year to the Hall. 

The listless life their brother led was a source of grief to them; forthey were really attached to him, and believed that they had in everyway been working for his happiness. 

They had no shadow of regret for the part they had played in breakingoff his engagement with Mary Vernon. Having once convinced themselvesthat she was a frivolous girl, quite unsuited for the position ofmistress of Penfold Hall, they had regarded it as an absolute duty toprotect Herbert from the consequences of what they considered hisinfatuation. Consequently, for years they were in the habit ofinviting for long visits young ladies whom they considered in everyway eligible as their successor, and had been much grieved at theirwant of success, and at the absolute indifference with which Herbertregarded the presence of these young women. When, four years after hismarriage to Mary Vernon, Mr. Conway had died suddenly they had beenseized with a vague disquiet; for they believed that the remembranceof his first love was the real cause of Herbert's indifference toothers, and considered it probable he might still be sufficientlyinfatuated with her to attempt to undo the past. 

To their gratification Herbert never alluded to the subject, never, sofar as they knew, made the slightest effort to renew her acquaintance. In fact, Herbert Penfold was a diffident as well as a weak man. Onceconvinced that he had acted badly toward Mary Vernon, he was equallyconvinced that she must despise him and that he was utterly unworthyof her. Had it been otherwise he would have again entered the listsand tried to recover the love he had thrown away. 

Although he occasionally yielded to the entreaties of his sisters andshowed himself with them at county gatherings, gave statelydinner-parties at regular intervals, and accepted the invitations ofhis neighbors, he lived the life almost of a recluse. 

His sole companion and friend was the rector of the parish, who hadbeen his tutor during his Continental tour, and whom he had presentedwith the living which was in his gift, to the secret dissatisfactionof his sisters, who had always considered that Herbert's tutor hadendeavored to set him against them. This had to some extent been thecase, in so far, at least, that Mr. Withers, who had left college onlya short time before starting with Herbert, had endeavored to give himhabits of self-reliance and independence of thought, and had quietlystriven against the influence that his sisters had upon his mind. Itwas not until after the Mary Vernon episode that the living had fallenvacant; had it been otherwise things might have turned outdifferently, for Herbert would certainly have sought his friend'sadvice in his troubles. 

After that it was too late for his interference. Mr. Withers hadwatched the state of matters at the Hall, and his young wife had oftenurged him to try to induce Herbert Penfold to rouse himself and asserthimself against his sisters, but the vicar remained neutral. He sawthat though at times Herbert was a little impatient at the dominationof his sisters, and a chance word showed that he nourished a feelingof resentment toward them, he was actually incapable of nervinghimself to the necessary effort required to shake off their influencealtogether, and to request them to leave the Hall. 

Nothing short of this would suffice to establish his independence; forafter a mere temporary assertion of authority he would, if theyremained there, assuredly speedily allow affairs to lapse into theirpresent state, and the vicar thought that harm rather than good wouldbe caused by his interference, and that, as his influence would besure to be suspected, there would be a breach between the Hall and theRectory. As it was the connection was an intimate one. Herbert wasalways glad to see him when he came in for a talk in the course of hisrounds, or when he and his wife would come up to dine quietly. TheMiss Penfolds were always ready with their purses to aid him to carryout his schemes for the good of the parish, and to sympathize with hisyoung wife in her troubles; for of these she had a large share--allher children, save one girl, having been carried off in their infancy. 

Mabel Withers was as much at home at the Hall as at the Rectory. Shewas chief pet and favorite with Mr. Penfold; and although his sistersconsidered that the rector allowed her to run wild, and that undersuch license she was growing up a sad tomboy, they could not withstandthe influence of the child's happy and fearless disposition, and werein their way very kind to her. 

Such was the state of things at Penfold Hall when its owner's suddenannouncement that he had invited young Ralph Conway to come to staythere had fallen like a bombshell upon his sisters. 

The invitation had caused almost as much surprise to Mrs. Conway as tothe Miss Penfolds. Her father had died a few months after hermarriage, and at the death of her husband she found herself left withan income of about a hundred a year--the interest of the sum for whichhe had insured his life. 

To her surprise she had a month or two later received an intimationfrom the lawyer who managed her business that a friend had arranged topay the sum of a hundred pounds every quarter to her account, oncondition only that no inquiry whatever should be made as to his orher identity. Mary Conway had thankfully accepted the gift, which had, however, caused her intense wonderment and curiosity. So far as sheknew neither her father nor her husband had any relations who couldhave afforded so handsome a gift. She knew that Colonel Vernon hadbeen most popular with his regiment, and the supposition at which shefinally arrived was that some young officer whom he had befriended indifficulties had, on coming into a large property, determinedsimilarly to befriend the daughter of his former colonel. 

Had she been alone in the world she would have declined to accept thisaid from an unknown benefactor, but for her son's sake she felt thatit would be wrong to do so. The idea that the money might come fromHerbert Penfold had once or twice occurred to her, only to be at oncedismissed, for had she really believed that it came from him she couldnot, even for Ralph's sake, have accepted it. He had, as she believed, quarreled with her altogether without cause, her letters had beenunanswered, and she considered the quarrel to have been simply apretext upon the part of Herbert to break off an engagement of whichhe was tired. Words dropped, apparently by accident, by Herbert'ssisters had, before the misunderstanding commenced, favored this idea, and although she had really loved him her disposition was too spiritedto allow her to take the steps she otherwise might have done to setherself right with him. 

At any rate she had no ground whatever for believing that Herbert, after the breach of the engagement, entertained any such feelingstoward her as would have led him to come forward to assist her in anyway after she had become the wife of another; and so for twelve yearsshe had continued to receive her quarterly income. She had establishedherself in a pretty little house near Dover, where several old friendsof her father resided, and where she had plenty of pleasant societyamong the officers of the regiments stationed there. Although far fromrivaling Portsmouth or Plymouth in life and bustle, Dover was a busytown during the time of the great war. The garrison was a large one, the channel cruisers often anchored under the guns of the castle, andfrom the top of the hills upon a clear day for months a keen lookoutwas kept for the appearance from the port of Boulogne of theexpedition Napoleon had gathered there for the invasion of England. 

The white sails of the English cruisers as they sailed up or down thechannel were clearly visible, and occasionally a privateer could beseen making its way westward with a prize it had picked up off Texel. Military and naval matters were the sole topics of conversation, andby the time he was fifteen Ralph had fully determined to follow in hisgrandfather's footsteps and to become a soldier. Having passed almostall her life among military men Mrs. Conway had offered no objectionsto his wishes, and as several of her father's old friends had promisedto use their influence on his behalf, there was little doubt that hewould be enabled to procure a commission as soon as he reached theregulation age. 

It was not often that the postman called at Mrs. Conway's withletters; for postage was expensive, and the people in those days onlywrote when they had something particular to say. Mrs. Conway had justmade breakfast when Ralph came in with a letter in his hand. 

"Here is a letter for you, mother; but please don't open it until youhave given me my breakfast. I am very late now, and shall barely havetime to get through with it and be there before the gates close. "

"Your porridge is quite ready for you, Ralph; so if you are late itwill be your own fault not mine. The eggs will be in before you haveeaten it. However, I won't open the letter until you have gone, because you will only waste time by asking questions about it. "

Ralph began his bread and milk, and Mrs. Conway, stretching out herhand, took the letter he had laid beside his plate, and turning itover glanced at the direction to ascertain from which of her fewcorrespondents it came. For a moment she looked puzzled, then, with alittle start, she laid it down by the side of her plate. She hadrecognized the handwriting once so familiar to her. 

"What is it, mother? You look quite startled. Who is it from?"

"It is from no one you know, Ralph. I think it is from a person I havenot heard from for some years. At any rate it will keep until you areoff to school. "

"It's nothing unpleasant, I hope, mother. Your color has quite gone, and you look downright pale. "

"What should be the matter, you silly boy?" Mrs. Conway said, with anattempt to smile. "What could there be unpleasant in a letter from aperson I have not heard from for years? There, go on with yourbreakfast. I expect you will hear some news when you get down into thetown, for the guns in the castle have been firing, and I suppose thereis news of a victory. They said yesterday that a great battle wasexpected to be fought against Napoleon somewhere near Leipzig. "

"Yes; I heard the guns, mother, and I expect there has been a victory. I hope not. "

"Why do you hope not, Ralph?"

"Why, of course, mother, I don't want the French to be beaten--notregularly beaten, till I am old enough to have a share in it. Justfancy what a nuisance it would be if peace was made just as I get mycommission. "

"There will be plenty of time for you, Ralph, " his mother saidsmiling. "Peace has been patched up once or twice, but it never lastslong; and after fighting for the last twenty years it is hardlyprobable that the world is going to grow peaceful all at once. Butthere, it is time for you to be off; it only wants ten minutes to nineand you will have to run fast all the way to be in time. "

When Mrs. Conway was alone she took up the letter, and turned it overseveral times before opening it. 

What could Herbert Penfold have written about after all these years?Mrs. Conway was but thirty-six years old now, and was still a prettywoman, and a sudden thought sent a flush of color to her face. "Never!" she said decidedly. "After the way in which he treated me hecannot suppose that now--" and then she stopped. "I know I did lovehim once, dearly, and it nearly broke my heart; but that was years andyears ago. Well, let us see what he says for himself, " and she brokeopen the letter. She glanced through it quickly, and then read itagain more carefully. She was very pale now, and her lips trembled asshe laid down the letter. 

"So, " she said to herself in a low tone, "it is to him after all I oweall this, " and she looked round her pretty room; "and I never oncereally suspected it. I am glad now, " she went on after a pause, "thatI did not; for, of course, it would have been impossible to have takenit, and how different the last twelve years of my life would havebeen. Poor Herbert! And so he really suffered too, and he has thoughtof me all this time. "

For fully half an hour she sat without moving, her thoughts busy withthe past, then she again took up the letter and reread it severaltimes. Its contents were as follows:

 "Dear Mrs. Conway: You will be doubtless surprised at seeing my handwriting, and your first impulse will naturally be to put this letter into the fire. I am not writing to ask you to forgive my conduct in the old days. I am but too well aware how completely I have forfeited all right to your esteem or consideration. Believe me that I have suffered for my fault, and that my life has been a ruined one. I attempt to make no excuses. I am conscious that while others were to blame I was most of all, and that it is to my own weakness of will and lack of energy that the breach between us was due. However, all this is of the past and can now interest you but little. You have had your own sorrows and trials, at which, believe me, I sincerely grieved. And now to my object in writing to you. Although still comparatively a young man, I have not many years to live. When last in London I consulted two of the first physicians, and they agreed that, as I had already suspected, I was suffering from heart disease, or rather, perhaps, from an enfeebled state of my heart, which may at any moment cease to do its work. 

 "Naturally then, I have turned my thoughts as to whom I should leave my property. My sisters are amply provided for. I have no other near relatives, and therefore consider myself free to leave it as I choose. I have long fixed my thoughts upon the daughter of a dear friend, the rector of Bilston; she is now thirteen years old, and half my property is left her. I have left the other half to your son. The whole subject to an annuity to yourself; which you will not, I trust, refuse to accept. I have never thought of any woman but you, and I hope that you will not allow your just resentment against me to deprive me of the poor satisfaction of making what atonement lies in my power for the cruel wrong I formerly did you. 

 "Were I strong and in health I can well imagine that you would indignantly refuse to receive any benefits from my hands, but knowing your kindness of heart, I feel sure that you will not sadden the last days of a doomed man by the knowledge that even after his death his hopes of insuring the comfort of the one woman on earth he cared for are to be disappointed. 

 "I should like to know your son. Would it be too much to ask you to spare him for a while from time to time so long as I live? I have a double motive, I say frankly, in thus asking him to come here. I wish him and my little pet, Mabel Withers, to come to like each other. I wish to divide my property between them, and yet I should be glad if the whole estate could remain intact. 

 "I should not be so foolish as to make a proviso that two persons who are as yet so young, and who may not in any way be suitable to each other, should marry, but nothing would please me so much as that they should take a fancy to each other; and thrown together as they would be here, for Mabel is constantly at the house, it is just possible that one of those boy and girl affections, which do sometimes, although perhaps rarely, culminate in marriage, might spring up between them. Whether that may be so in the present case I must leave to fate, but I should at any rate like to pave the way for such an arrangement by bringing the young people together. I need not say that it will be best that neither of them should have the slightest idea of what is in my mind, for this would be almost certain to defeat my object. 

 "If the proposal is agreeable to you, I hope that you will let Ralph come to me at the beginning of his holidays; which must, I fancy, be now near at hand. I think it will be as well that he should not know of my intention as to the disposal of my property, for it is better he should think that he will have to work for his living; but at the same time there would be no harm in his knowing that it is probable I shall help him on in life. This will make him bear better what would otherwise be a dull visit. But I leave this matter entirely in your hands. You know the boy and I do not, and you can therefore better judge what will be best for him to know. And now, dear Mary, if you will pardon my once again calling you so, "I remain, "Your affectionate friend, "HERBERT PENFOLD. "

It was characteristic of Mrs. Conway that at the first reading of thisletter she thought rather of the writer than of the bright prospectswhich his offer opened to her son. She thought rather of HerbertPenfold, her first love, now ill, if not dying, of the days of theirengagement and its rupture, than of the fact that her son was toinherit half the Penfold estates. She had been sorely hurt at thetime; and even after all these years it was a pleasure to her to knowthat the quarrel was not as she had often thought at the time, a merepretext for breaking off the engagement, but that Herbert had reallyloved her, had cared for her all these years, and had been themysterious friend whose kindness had so lightened her cares. 

"I did not throw away my love after all, " she said to herself, as withher eyes full of tears she stood at the window and looked out towardsthe sea. "He cared for me enough to be faithful all this time and tothink of me constantly, while I had almost forgotten the past. I oughtto have known all the time that he was acting under the influence ofothers--those sisters of his, of course. I was always certain theyhated me--hated the thought of my becoming mistress of Penfold Hall. Iknew the influence they had over him. Herbert had no will of hisown--it was the only fault I ever saw in him--and they could twist himround their little fingers. And now he is going to make Ralph hisheir, or at least his heir with the girl he speaks of. It is a grandthing for Ralph; for the estates were worth, he told papa, eightthousand a year, and if Herbert's little romance comes off Ralph willhave all. "

Then she thought over the years he had been befriending her, andwondered what she should do about that. Finally, being a sensiblewoman, she decided to do nothing. Had she known it before, or learnedthe truth by other means, she would have refused absolutely to touchHerbert Penfold's money; but it would be indeed a poor return for hiskindness were she now, when he was ill and feeble, and was about tobestow still further benefits upon her, to refuse to permit him anylonger to aid her. She wished, as she read the letter over again, thathe had expressed some desire to see her. She should have liked to havethanked him in person, to have told him how grateful she felt for hiscare and kindness, to have taken his hand again if but for a minute. 

But he had expressed no wish for a meeting, had never all these yearsmade an effort to see her. She could read in the wording of the letterthat he had been principally deterred from making any attempt to seeher by the feeling that he had entirely forfeited her regard, and hadoffended her beyond chance of forgiveness. And had she been asked theday before she would doubtless have replied that she had no wishwhatever ever again to meet Herbert Penfold; whereas now she feltalmost aggrieved that he should express no wish to meet her, shouldhave stayed away so long without making one effort to bring aboutreconciliation. 

"Of all faults that a man can have, " she said pettishly, "I do notthink there's one so detestable as that of self-distrust. Why could henot have said ten years ago, 'I behaved badly, Mary; I treated youabominably; but forgive me and forget. I was not wholly to blame, except that I allowed others to come between us?' If he had come andsaid that, we could at least have been good friends. I have nopatience with men who cannot stand up for themselves. Now, how muchshall I tell Ralph?" and she again read the letter through. 

"Ralph, " she said when he came in to dinner, "you remember that letterI had this morning?"

"Yes, I know, mother; the one that made you turn so white. You said itwas from an old friend, though why a letter from an old friend shouldupset any one I can't make out. What was it about, mother?"

"Well, my boy, it contains a pleasant piece of news. Mr. Penfold, thatis the name of the writer, was a friend of my family. He knew me longago when we were young people, and at one time it seemed likely thatwe should be married. However, as you know, that never took place. However, it seems, as he says by his letter, that he has neveraltogether forgotten me, and he intends to help you on in life if youturn out as he would like to see you. He wishes you to go down to staywith him when your holidays begin. "

"That sounds nice, " Ralph said; "and if he has got any boys about myown age it will be pleasant. "

"He has no children, Ralph. He is what you may call an old bachelor, and lives with his sisters--or, rather, they live with him. "

"That does not sound very cheerful, mother. An old gentleman with twoold ladies alone in the house can't make much fun. "

"He is not an old gentleman, Ralph, " Mrs. Conway said almost angrily. "I told you we were young people together. Still it may not be verylively for you, but you must put up with that. He evidently means tobe very kind to you, and it will be of great advantage to you goingdown to stay with him. "

"But what are you going to do with yourself, mother, all alone here? Ithink he might have asked you as well as me. "

"I shall do very well, Ralph. I have plenty of friends here. "

"Where does Mr. Penfold live, mother?"

"Down in Dorsetshire. It is a very nice place, and only about a milefrom the sea. But, as I say, I do not expect you will find it lively;but that you mustn't mind. It will be a very good thing for you, andwill be well worth your while putting up with a little dullness for atime. Mr. Penfold is one of the kindest of men, but I do not think youwill like his sisters much. Certainly you will not unless they are agood deal changed from what they were as I remember them. Still youmust try to get on with them as well as you can, and I dare say youwill find some pleasant companions in the neighborhood. I am sure youwill do your best when I tell you that I am most anxious for manyreasons that Mr. Penfold should like you. "

"Of course I will do my best, mother, though I must say that thelookout is not, according to your description, a very cheerful one, and I would a deal rather stop at home with you. "

"We can't always do exactly as we like, Ralph; though that is a lessonyou have as yet to learn. What day did you say your holidays began?"

"Next Monday week, mother. But I do hope I may have two or three days'sailing with Joe Knight the fisherman before I go. "

"Mr. Penfold says he will be glad to see you as soon as your holidaysbegin, Ralph; still I suppose a day or two will make no difference, sowe will settle that you shall go on Friday. As you go down to schoolthis afternoon you had better tell Rogerson the tailor to come up thisevening to measure you for a suit of clothes. You must look decentwhen you go down; and you know except your Sunday suit, you have gotnothing fit to wear in such a house as that. "

"I am afraid it's going to be a horrible nuisance altogether, " Ralphsaid ruefully. "However, I suppose it's got to be done as you say so, mother; though it's hard breaking in on my holidays like that. Hemight just as well have asked me in school-time. One could have put upwith it ever so much better if it took one out of old Harper'sclutches for a bit. How long am I to stay there?"

"I expect the greater part of your holidays, Ralph. I think he wantsto get to know all about you. "

Ralph groaned loudly. "He may intend very kindly, " he said; "but Iwish he would keep his good intentions to himself. "

"You think so now, " Mrs. Conway said with a smile. "You won't think sowhen you are in the army, but will find a little extra allowance or atip now and then very welcome. "

"I dare say I shall, mother, " Ralph said, brightening. "Anyhow, if theold gentleman--that is to say, the gentleman--takes it into his headto make me an allowance, it will take me off your hands, and I shallnot be always feeling that I am an awful expense to you. All right, mother. I think I can promise that I will be on my best behavior, andwill try hard to get on even with his sisters. I wish he had askedPhil Landrey to go down with me. Two fellows can get on anywhere. "

"I should have very little hope of your making a good impression ifyou went there with your friend Phil, " Mrs. Conway said, smiling. "Ican believe in your good conduct while you are alone, but I shouldhave no hopes whatever of you if you and he were together. "

"But how am I to go, mother? It seems such a tremendous way from heredown into Dorsetshire. "

"I have not thought anything about it yet, Ralph; but probably Mr. Penfold will give some instructions as to your journey when he hearsfrom me that you are coming. "

CHAPTER II. 

A COUNTRY VISIT. 

When Ralph had gone off to school again Mrs. Conway sat down to answerthe letter--by no means an easy task--and she sat with the paperbefore her for a long time before she began. At last, with an air ofdesperation, she dipped her pen into the ink and began:

 "MY DEAR HERBERT PENFOLD: It is difficult to answer such a letter as yours--to say all one feels without saying too much; to express the gratitude with which one is full, but of which one feels that you do not desire the expression. First, a word as to the past. Now that it is irreparable, why should I not speak freely? We were the victims of a mistake! You were misled respecting me. I foolishly resented the line you took, failed to make sufficient allowances for your surroundings, and even doubted a love that seemed to me to be so easily shaken. Thus my pride was, perhaps, as much responsible for what happened as your too easy credence of tales to my disadvantage. At any rate, believe me that I have cherished no such feelings as those with which you credit me toward you. Now that I know the truth, I can only regret that your life has been, as you say, spoiled, by what can but be called a fatal misunderstanding. 

 "Next, I must thank you, although you make no allusion to it in your letter, for your kindness during past years. Of these, believe me, I never suspected that you were the author; and I need hardly say how deeply I have been touched at finding that the hand to which I and my boy owe so much is that of Herbert Penfold. Of this I will say no more. I leave you to picture my feelings and my gratitude. Also, most warmly I thank you for your intentions regarding my boy. He will be ready to come to you on Friday week. I suppose his best way will be to go by coach to London and then down to you, or he could take passage perhaps in a coaster. He is very fond of the sea. 

 "We had settled that he should enter the army; but of course I consider that nothing will be decided on this or any other point as to his future until I know your wishes on the matter. Lastly, dear Herbert, believe me that the news that you have given me concerning your state of health has caused me deep sorrow, and I earnestly hope and trust that the doctors may be mistaken in your case, that you may have a long life before you, and that life may be happier in the future than it has been in the past. 

 "I remain, "Your grateful and affectionate

 "MARY CONWAY. "

A fortnight later Ralph Conway took his place on the outside of thecoach for London. As to the visit to this unknown friend of hismother, he anticipated no pleasure from it whatever; but at the sametime the journey itself was delightful to him. He had never during hisremembrance been further away from Dover than Canterbury; and the tripbefore him was in those days a more important one than a journey halfover Europe would be at the present time. In his pocket he carried apiece of paper, on which his mother had carefully written down theinstructions contained in the letter she had received in answer to herown from Herbert Penfold. Sewn up in the lining of his waistcoat werefive guineas, so that in case the coach was stopped by highwaymen, orany other misfortune happened, he would still be provided with fundsfor continuing his journey. 

Under the seat was a small basket filled with sandwiches, and his headought to have been equally well filled with the advice his mother hadgiven him as to his behavior at Penfold Hall. As his place had beenbooked some days before, he had the advantage of an outside seat. Nextto him was a fat woman, who was going up to town, as she speedilyinformed her fellow-passengers, to meet her husband, who was captainof a whaler. 

"I see in the _Gazette_ of to-day, " she said, "as his ship wassignaled off Deal yesterday, and with this ere wind he will be up atthe docks to-morrow; so off I goes. He's been away nigh eighteenmonths; and I know what men is. Why, bless you, if I wasn't there tomeet him when he steps ashore, as likely as not he would meet withfriends and go on the spree, and I shouldn't hear of him for a week;and a nice hole that would make in his earnings. Young man, you arescrouging me dreadful! Can't you get a little further along. "

"It seems to me, ma'am, that it is you who are scrouging me, " Ralphreplied. "This rail is almost cutting into my side now. "

"Well, we must live and let live!" the woman said philosophically. "You may thank your stars nature hasn't made you as big as I am. Little people have their advantages. But we can't have everything ourown way. That's what I tells my Jim; he is always a-wanting to havehis own way. That comes from being a captain; but, as I tells him, it's only reasonable as he is captain on board his ship I should becaptain in my house. I suppose you are going to school?"

"No, I am not. My school is just over. "

"Going all the way up to London?"

"Yes. "

"That's a mercy, " the woman said. "I was afraid you might be onlygoing as far as Canterbury, and then I might have got some big chap uphere who would squeeze me as flat as a pancake. Men is sounthoughtful, and seems to think as women can stow themselves awayanywheres. I wish you would feel and get your hand in my pocket, youngman. I can't do it nohow, and I ain't sure that I have got my keyswith me; and that girl Eliza will be getting at the bottles anda-having men in, and then there will be a nice to-do with the lodgers. Can't you find it? It is in the folds somewhere. "

"With much difficulty Ralph found the pocket-hole, and thrusting hishand in was able to reassure his neighbor by feeling among a mass ofodds and ends a bunch of keys. 

"That's a comfort, " the woman said. "If one's mind isn't at ease onecan't enjoy traveling. "

"I wish my body was at ease, " Ralph said. "Don't you think you couldsqueeze them a little on the other side and give me an inch or twomore room?"

"I will try, " the woman said; "as you seem a civil sort of boy. "

Whereupon she gave two or three heaves, which relieved Ralph greatly, but involved her in an altercation with her neighbor on the otherside, which lasted till the towers of Canterbury came in sight. Herethey changed horses at the Fountain Inn. 

"Look here, my boy, " the woman said to Ralph. "If you feel underneathmy feet you will find a basket, and at the top there is an emptybottle. There will be just time for you to jump down and get it filledfor me. A shilling's worth of brandy, and filled up with water. Thatgirl Eliza flustered me so much with her worritting and questionsbefore I started that I had not time to fill it. "

Ralph jumped down and procured the desired refreshment, and was justin time to clamber up to his seat again when the coach started. Heenjoyed the rapid motion and changing scene much, but he was not sorrywhen--as evening was coming on--he saw ahead of him a dull mist, whichhis fellow-passenger told him was the smoke of London. 

It was nine in the evening when the coach drove into the courtyard ofthe Bull Inn. The guard, who had received instructions from Mrs. Conway, at once gave Ralph and his box into the charge of one of theporters awaiting the arrival of the coach, and told him to take thebox to the inn from which the coach for Weymouth started in themorning. Cramped by his fourteen hours' journey Ralph had at firstsome difficulty in following his conductor through the crowded street, but the stiffness soon wore off, and after ten minutes walking hearrived at the inn. 

The guard had already paid the porter, having received the money forthat purpose from Mrs. Conway; and the latter setting down the box inthe passage at once went off. Ralph felt a little forlorn, andwondered what he was to do next. But a minute later the landlady cameout from the bar. 

"Do you want a bed?" she asked. "The porter should have rung the bell. I am afraid we are full, unless it has been taken beforehand. However, I will see if I can make shift somehow. "

"I should be very much obliged if you can, " Ralph said; "for I don'tknow anything about London, and am going on by the Weymouth coach inthe morning. "

"Oh, might your name be Conway?"

"Yes, that is my name, " Ralph said, surprised. 

"Ah, then there is a bedroom taken for you. A gentleman came threedays ago and took it, saying it was for a young gent who is goingthrough to Weymouth. Tom, " she called, "take this box up to number 12. Supper is ready for you, sir. I dare say you would like a wash first?"

"That I should, " Ralph replied, following the boots upstairs. 

In a few minutes he returned, and a waiter directed him to thecoffee-room. In a short time a supper consisting of fish, a steak, andtea was placed before him. Ralph fell to vigorously, and the care thathad been bestowed by Mr. Penfold in securing a bedroom and orderingsupper for him greatly raised him in the boy's estimation; and helooked forward with warmer anticipations than he had hitherto done tohis visit to him. As goon as he had finished he went off to bed, andin a few minutes was sound asleep. At half-past six he was called, andafter a hearty breakfast took his seat on the outside of the Weymouthcoach. 

Sitting beside him were four sailors, belonging, as he soon learned, to a privateer lying at Weymouth. They had had a long trip, and hadbeen some months at sea; and as their ship was to lie for a fortnightat Weymouth while some repairs were being done to her, they hadobtained a week's leave and had ran up to London for a spree. Weymouthduring the war did a brisk trade, and was a favorite rendezvous ofprivateers, who preferred it greatly to Portsmouth or Plymouth, wherethe risk of their men being pressed to make up the quota of someman-of-war just fitted out was very great. 

The sailors were rather silent and sulky, at first at the cruise onland being nearly over, but after getting off the coach where itchanged horses they recovered their spirits, and amused Ralph greatlywith their talk about the various prizes they had taken, and one ortwo sharp brashes with French privateers. Toward evening they becamerather hilarious, but for the last two hours dozed quietly; the mansitting next to Ralph lurching against him heavily in his sleep, andswearing loudly when the boy stuck his elbow into his ribs to relievehimself of the weight. Ralph was not sorry, therefore, when at teno'clock at night the coach arrived at Weymouth. The landlord andservants came out with lanterns to help the passengers to alight, andthe former, as Ralph climbed down the side into the circle of light, asked:

"Are you Master Conway?"

"That's my name, " Ralph replied. 

"A bed has been taken for you, sir, and a trap will be over here atnine o'clock in the morning to take you to Penfold Hall. "

Supper was already prepared for such passengers as were going to sleepin the hotel; but Ralph was too sleepy to want to eat, and had made agood meal when the coach stopped at six o'clock for twenty minutes toallow the passengers time for refreshments. At eight o'clock nextmorning he breakfasted. When he had finished the waiter told him thatthe trap had arrived a few minutes before, and that the horse had beentaken out to have a feed, but would be ready to start by nine. Ralphtook a stroll for half an hour by the sea and then returned. The trapwas at the door, and his trunk had already been placed in it. Thedriver, a man of twenty-three or twenty-four, was, as he presentlytold Ralph, stable-helper at Penfold Hall. 

"I generally drive this trap when it is wanted, " he said. "Thecoachman is pretty old now. He has been in the family well-nigh fiftyyears. He is all right behind the carriage-horses, he says, but hedoes not like trusting himself in a pair-wheel trap. "

"How far is it?"

"A matter of fifteen miles. It would be a lot shorter if you had gotoff last night at the nearest point the coach goes to; but the mastertold the coachman that he thought it would be pleasanter for you tocome on here than to arrive there tired and sleepy after dark. "

"Yes, it will much more pleasant, " Ralph said. "The road was verydirty, and I should not like to arrive at a strange house with myclothes all covered with dust, and so sleepy that I could hardly keepmy eyes open, especially as I hear that Mr. Penfold's sisters arerather particular. "

"Rather isn't the word, " the driver said; "they are particular, and nomistake. I don't believe as the master would notice whether thecarriage was dirty or clean; but if there is a speck of dirt aboutthey are sure to spot it. Not that they are bad mistresses; but theylook about all right, I can tell you, pretty sharp. I don't say thatit ain't as well as they do, for the master never seems to care oneway or the other, and lets things go anyhow. A nice gentleman he is, but I don't see much of him; and he don't drive in the carriage notonce a month, and only then when he is going to the board ofmagistrates. He just walks about the garden morning and evening, andall the rest of the time he is shut up in the library with his books. It's a pity he don't go out more. "

"Are there any families about with boys?" Ralph asked. 

"Not as I knows of. None of then that ever comes to the Hall, anyhow. It's a pity there ain't some young ones there; it would wake the placeup and make it lively. It would give us a lot more work to do, I don'tdoubt; but we shouldn't mind that. I have heard it used to bedifferent in the old squire's time, but it has always been so as longas I can remember. I don't live at the house, but down at the village. Jones he lives over the stables; and there ain't no occasion to havemore than one there, for there's only the two carriage-horses andthis. "

"How far is the sea from the house?"

"It's about half a mile to the top of the cliff, and a precious longclimb down to the water; but going round by Swanage--which is aboutthree miles--you can drive down close to the sea, for there are nocliffs there. "

There was little more said during the drive. From time to time the manpointed out the various villages and country seats, and Ralph wonderedto himself how he should manage to pass the next three weeks. Itseemed that there would be nothing to do and no one to talk to. He hadalways been accustomed to the companionship of lots of boys of his ownage, and during the holidays there was plenty of sailing and fishing, so that time had never hung on his hands; the present prospecttherefore almost appalled him. However, he had promised his motherthat he would try to make the best of things; and he tried to assurehimself that after all three weeks or a month would be over at last. After an hour and a half's drive they passed through a lodge gate intoa park, and in a few minutes drew up at the entrance to Penfold Hall. An old servant came out. 

"Will you come with me into the library, sir? Mr. Penfold is expectingyou. Your box will be taken up into your room. "

Ralph felt extremely uncomfortable as he followed his conductor acrossa noble hall, floored with dark polished oak, and paneled with thesame material. A door opened, and a servant announced "Master Conway. "A gentleman rose from his chair and held out his hand. 

"I am glad to see you, Ralph Conway; and I hope your journey has beena pretty comfortable one. It is very good of you to come such a longdistance to pay me a visit. "

"Mother wanted me to, sir, " Ralph said honestly. "I don't think--" andhe stopped. 

"You don't think you would have come of your own accord, Ralph? No, that is natural enough, my boy. At your, age I am sure I should nothave cared to give up my holidays and spend them in a quiet houseamong strangers. However, I wanted to see you, and I am very glad youhave come. I am an old friend of your mother's, you know, and sodesired to make the acquaintance of her son. I think you are likeher, " he said, putting his hand on Ralph's shoulder and taking him tothe window and looking steadily at him. 

"Other people have said so, sir; but I am sure I can't [illegiblewords] be like her a bit. Mother is so pretty, and I am sure I am notthe least bit in the world; and I don't think it's nice for a boy tobe like a woman. "

This was rather a sore point with Ralph, who had a smooth soft facewith large eyes and long eyelashes, and who had, in consequence, beennicknamed "Sally" by his schoolfellows. The name had stuck to him inspite of several desperate fights, and the fact that in point ofstrength and activity he was fully a match for any boy of his own age;but as there was nothing like derision conveyed by it, and it wasindeed a term of affection rather, than of contempt, Ralph had at lastceased to struggle against it. But he longed for the time when thesprouting of whiskers would obliterate the obnoxious smoothness of hisface. Mr. Penfold had smiled at his remark. 

"I do not like girlish boys, Ralph; but a boy can have a girlish faceand yet be a true boy all over. I fancy that's your case. 

"I hope so, sir. I think I can swim or run or fight any of the chapsof my own age in the school; but I know I do look girlish about theface. I have done everything I could to make my face rough. I have satin the sun, and wetted it with sea-water every five minutes, but it'sno use. "

"I should not trouble about it. Your face will get manly enough intime, you may be sure; and I like you all the better for it, my boy, because you are certainly very like your mother. And now, Ralph, Iwant you to enjoy yourself as much as you can while you are here. Thehouse itself is dull, but I suppose you will be a good deal out ofdoors. I have hired a pony, which will be here to-day from Poole, andI have arranged with Watson, a fisherman at Swanage, that you can goout with him in his fishing-boat whenever you are disposed. It isthree miles from here, but you can ride over on your pony and leave itat the little inn there till you come back. I am sorry to say I do notknow any boys about here; but Mabel Withers, the daughter of myneighbor and friend the clergyman of Bilston, the village just outsidethe lodge, has a pony, and is a capital rider, and I am sure she willshow you over the country. I suppose you have not had much to do withgirls?" he added with a smile at seeing a slight expression of dismayon Ralph's face, which had expressed unmixed satisfaction at the firstitems of the programme. 

"No, sir; not much, " Ralph said. "Of course some of my schoolfellowshave sisters, but one does not see much of them. "

"I think you will get on very well together. She is a year or twoyounger than you are, and I am afraid she is considered rather atomboy. She has been caught at the top of a tall tree examining theeggs in a nest, and in many similar ungirl-like positions; so youwon't find her a dull companion. She is a great pet of mine, andthough she may not be as good a companion as a boy would be for you, Iam sure when you once get to know her you will find her a very goodsubstitute. You see, not having had much to do with boys, I am notvery good at devising amusement for you. I can only say that if thereis anything you would like to do while you are here you have only totell me, and if it be possible I will put you in the way of it. "

"Thank you very much, sir. You are extremely kind, " Ralph saidheartily; for with a pony and a boat it did seem that his visit wouldnot be nearly so dull as he had anticipated. "I am sure I shall get oncapitally. "

Just at his moment there was a knock at the door. It opened, and agirl entered. 

"You have just come at the right moment, Mabel, " Mr. Penfold said asshe came in. "This is Ralph Conway, of whom I was speaking to you. Ralph, this is Mabel Withers. I asked her to come in early thismorning so as to act as your guide round the place. "

The boy and girl shook hands with each other. She was the first tospeak. 

"So you are Ralph. I have been wondering what you would be like. Unclehas been telling me you were coming. I like your looks, and I thinkyou are nice. "

Ralph was taken rather aback. This was not the way in which hisschoolfellows' sisters had generally addressed him. 

"I think you look jolly, " he said; "and that's better than lookingnice. "

"I think they mean the same thing, " she replied; "except that a girlsays 'nice' and a boy says 'jolly. ' I like the word 'jolly' best, onlyI get scolded when I use it. Shall we go into the garden?"

Altogether Ralph Conway had a very much pleasanter time than he hadanticipated. Except at meals he saw little of the Miss Penfolds. Hisopinion as to these ladies, expressed confidentially to Mabel Withers, was the reverse of flattering. 

"I think, " he said, "that they are the two most disagreeable old catsI have ever met. They hardly ever open their lips, and when they do itis only to answer some question of their brother. I remember in afairy story there was a girl who whenever she spoke let fall pearlsand diamonds from her lips; whenever those women open their mouths Iexpect icicles and daggers to drop out. "

"They are not so bad as that, " Mabel laughed. "I generally get on withthem very well, and they are very kind in the parish; and altogetherthey are really not bad. "

"Then their looks belie them horribly, " Ralph said. "I suppose theydon't like me; and that would be all well enough if I had doneanything to offend them, but it was just as bad the first day I came. I am sure Mr. Penfold does not like it. I can see him fidget on hischair; and he talks away with me pretty well all the time we are attable, so as to make it less awkward, I suppose. Well, I am stoppingwith him, and not with them, that's one thing; and it doesn't makemuch difference to me if they do choose to be disagreeable. I like himimmensely. He is wonderfully kind; but it would be awfully stupid workif it weren't for you, Mabel. I don't think I could stand it if itwere not for our rides together. "

The young people had indeed got on capitally from the first. Every daythey took long rides together, generally alone, although sometimes Mr. Penfold rode with them. Ralph had already confided to the latter, uponhis asking him how he liked Mabel, that she was the jolliest girl thathe had ever met. 

"She has no nonsensical girl's ways about her, Mr. Penfold; but isalmost as good as a boy to be with. The girls I have seen before havebeen quite different from that. Some of them always giggle when youspeak to them, others have not got a word to say for themselves; andit is awfully hard work talking to them even for a single dance. Still, I like them better than the giggling ones. "

"You see, Ralph, girls brought up in a town are naturally different toone like Mabel. They go to school, and are taught to sit upright andto behave discreetly, and to be general unnatural. Mabel has beenbrought up at home and allowed to do as she liked, and she hasconsequently grown up what nature intended her to be. Perhaps some dayall girls will be allowed the same chance of being natural that boyshave, and backboards and other contrivances for stiffening them andturning them into little wooden figures will be unknown. It will be agood thing, in my opinion, when that time arrives. "

Ralph was often down at the Rectory, where he was always made welcome, Mr. Withers and his wife being anxious to learn as much of hisdisposition as they could. They were well satisfied with the result. 

"I fancy I know what is in Penfold's mind, " the rector had said to hiswife a few days after Ralph came down. "I believe he has already quitesettled it in his mind that some day Mabel and this lad shall make amatch of it. "

"How absurd, John. Why, Mabel is only a child. "

"Quite so, my dear; but in another three or four years she will be ayoung woman. I don't mean that Penfold has any idea that they aregoing to take a fancy to each other at present--only that they will doso in the future. You know he has said that he intends to leave aslice of his fortune to her, and I have no doubt that this lad willget the main bulk of his property. I have often told you about hisengagement to the lad's mother, and how the breaking it off hasaffected his whole life. It is natural that a lonely man as _he_ isshould plan for others. He has no future of his own to look forwardto, so he looks forward to some one else's. He has had no interest inlife for a great many years, and I think he is making a new one forhimself in the future of our girl and this lad. 

"As far as I have seen of the boy I like him. He is evidently astraightforward, manly lad. I don't mean to say that he has anyexceptional amount of brains, or is likely to set the Thames on fire;but if he comes into the Penfold property that will not be of muchimportance. He seems bright, good-tempered, and a gentleman. That isquite good enough to begin with. At any rate, there is nothing for usto trouble about. If some day the young people get to like each otherthe prospect is a good one for the child; if not, there's no harmdone. At present there can be no objection to our yielding toPenfold's request and letting them ride about the country together. Mabel is, as you say, little more than a child, and it is evident thatthe lad regards her rather in the light of a boy companion than as agirl. 

"She is a bit of a tomboy, you know, Mary, and has very few girlishnotions or ideas. They evidently get on capitally together, and weneed not trouble our heads about them but let things go their own waywith a clear conscience. "

At the end of the time agreed upon Ralph returned home. 

"And so, Ralph, you have found it better than you expected?" hismother said to him at the conclusion of his first meal at home. 

"Much better, mother. Mr. Penfold is awfully kind, and lets one dojust what one likes. His sisters are hateful women, and if I had notbeen staying in the house I should certainly have played them sometrick or other just to pay them out. I wonder why they disliked me somuch. I could see it directly I arrived; but, after all, it didn'tmatter much, except just at meals and in the evening. But though Mr. Penfold was so kind, it would have been very stupid if it had not beenfor Mabel Withers. We used to ride out or go for walks together everyday. She was a capital walker, and very jolly--almost as good as aboy. She said several times that she wished she had been a boy, and Iwished so too. Still, of course, mother, I am very glad I am back. There is no place like home, you know; and then there are the fellowsat school, and the games, and the sea, and all sorts of things; andit's a horrid nuisance to think that I have got to go down thereregularly for my holidays. Still, of course, as you wish it, I will doso; and now that I know what it is like it won't be so bad anothertime. Anyhow, I am glad I have got another ten days before schoolbegins. "

The following morning Ralph went down to the beach. "Why, MasterConway, " an old fisherman said, "you are a downright stranger. I havemissed you rarely. "

"I told you I was going away, Joe, and that I shouldn't get back untilthe holidays were nearly over. "

"I know you did, " the fisherman replied. "Still it does seem strangewithout you. Every time as I goes out I says to Bill if Master Conwaywas at home he would be with us to-day, Bill. It don't seem no waysnatural without him. ' And there's been good fishing, too, this season, first rate; and the weather has been just what it should be. "

"Well, I am back now, Joe, anyhow; and I have got ten days beforeschool begins again, and I mean to make the most of it. Are you goingout to-day?"

"At four o'clock, " the fisherman said. "Daylight fishing ain't muchgood just now; we take twice as many at night. "

"No trouble with the Frenchies?"

"Lord bless you I ain't seen a French sail for months. Our cruisersare too sharp for them; though they say a good many privateers run inand out of their ports in spite of all we can do, and a lot of ourships get snapped up. But we don't trouble about them. Why, bless yourheart, if one of them was to run across us they would only just takeour fish, and as likely as not pay us for them with a cask or two ofspirits. Fish is a treat to them Frenchies; for their fishing boatshave to keep so close over to their own shores that they can't takemuch. Besides, all their best fishermen are away in the privateers, and the lads have to go to fight Boney's battles with the Austrians orRussians, or Spanish or our chaps, or else to go on board their shipsof war and spend all their time cooped up in harbor, for they scarceshow now beyond the range of the guns in their forts. Well, will youcome this evening?"

"Yes, I think so, Joe. My mother doesn't much care about my being outat night, you know; but as I have been away all this time to pleaseher, I expect she will let me do what I like for the rest of theholidays. "

"Don't you come if your mother don't like it, Master Conway; there isnever no good comes of boys vexing their mothers. I have knownmisfortune to follow it over and over again. Boys think as they knowbest what's good for them; but they don't, and sooner or later theyare sure to own it to themselves. "

"I shouldn't do it if I knew she really didn't like it, Joe; but Idon't think she does mind my going out with you at any time. She knowsshe can trust you. Beside, what harm could come of it? You never goout in very rough weather. "

"Pretty roughish sometimes, Master Conway. "

"Oh, yes, pretty rough; but not in a gale, you know. Beside, theHeartsease could stand a goodish gale. She is not very fast, you know, but she is as safe as a house. "

"She is fast enough, " the old fisherman said in an injured tone. "Butyou young gentlemen is never content unless a boat is heeling over, gunnel under, and passing everything she comes across. What's the goodof that ere to a fisherman? He goes out to catch fish, not to strainhis craft all over by running races against another. Now an hourfaster or slower makes no difference, and the Heartsease is fastenough for me, anyhow. "

"No, she isn't, Joe. I have heard you use bad language enough whenanything overhauls and passes her on the way back to port. "

"Ay, that may be, " the fisherman admitted; "and on the way home Igrant you that a little more speed might be an advantage, for thefirst comer is sure to get the best market. No, the Heartsease ain'tvery fast, I own up to that; but she is safe and steady, and she hasplenty of storage room and a good roomy cabin as you can stand uprightin, and needn't break your back by stooping as you have to do on boardsome craft I could name. "

"That's true enough, Joe, " the boy said. 

"But what's more, she's a lucky boat; for it's seldom that she goesout without getting a good catch. "

"I think that's more judgment than luck, Joe; though there may be someluck in it too. "

"I don't know about that, Master Conway. Of course one wants a sharpeye to see where the shoals are moving; but I believes in luck. Well, sir, shall I see you again before the afternoon?"

"I don't much expect so, Joe. I have got to call at some other places, and I don't suppose I shall have time to get down before. If I amcoming I shall be sure to be punctual; so if I am not here by four, gooff without me. "

Mrs. Conway made no objection when Ralph proffered his request. He hadsacrificed the greater part of his holidays to carrying out herwishes, and paying a visit to Mr. Penfold; and although she did notlike his being out all night fishing, she could not refuse hisrequest; and, indeed, as she knew that Joe Knight was a steady man andnot fond of the bottle, there was no good reason why she shouldobject. She, therefore, cheerfully assented, saying at the same time, "I will pack a basket for you before you start, Ralph. There is a nicepiece of cold meat in the house, and I will have that and a loaf ofbread and some cheese put up for you. I know what these fishingexcursions are; you intend to be back at a certain time, and then thewind falls, or the tide turns, or something of that sort, and youcan't make the harbor. You know what a fright you gave me the veryfirst time you went out fishing with Joe Knight. You were to have beenback at five o'clock in the afternoon, and you did not get in untilthree o'clock the next morning. "

"I remember, mother; and there you were on the quay when we came in. Iwas awfully sorry about it. "

"Well, I have learned better since, Ralph; and I know now that thereis not necessarily any danger, even if you don't come back by the timeI expect you. And of course each time I have fidgeted and you havecome back safe, I have learned a certain amount of sea-knowledge, andhave come to know that sailors and fishermen are not accountable fortime; and that if the wind drops or tide turns they are helpless inthe matter, and have only to wait till a breeze comes up again. "

"I think, mother, you ought to like my going out at night better thanin the daytime. "

"Why, Ralph?"

"Because, mother, if I go out in the daytime and don't get back untilafter dark, you worry yourself, and having no one to talk to, sit herewondering and wondering until you fancy all sorts of things. Now, if Igo out in the evening, and I don't come back in the morning at thehour you expect, you see that it is fine and bright, and that there isnothing to make you uneasy; or if you do feel fidgety, you can walkdown to the beach and talk to the boatmen and fishermen, and of coursethey can tell you at once that there's nothing to worry about, andvery likely point the boat out to you in the distance. "

"Well, Ralph, perhaps that is so, although I own I never looked at itin that light before. "

CHAPTER III. 

RUN DOWN. 

"There's a nice breeze, " Ralph said as he joined the fisherman at theappointed hour. 

"Yes, it's just right; neither too light nor too heavy. It's ratherthick, and I shouldn't be surprised if we get it thicker; but thatagain don't matter. " For in those days not one ship plowed the watersof our coast for every fifty that now make their way along it. Therewere no steamers, and the fear of collision was not ever in the mindsof those at sea. 

"Where's Bill, Joe?"

"The young scamp!" the fisherman said angrily. "Nothing will do forhim but to go a-climbing up the cliffs this morning; and just afteryou left us, news comes that the young varmint had fallen down andtwisted his foot, and doctor says it will be a fortnight afore he canput a boot on. Then the old woman began a-crying over him; while, as Itold her, if any one ought to cry it would be me, who's got to hireanother boy in his place to do his work. A touch of the strap would bethe best thing for him, the young rascal!"

"You are not going to take another boy out to-night are you, Joe?"

"No, Master Conway, I knows you like a-doing things. You have been outenough with me to know as much about it as Bill, and after all thereain't a very great deal to do. The trawl ain't a heavy one, and as Iam accustomed to work it with Bill I can do it with you. "

The Heartsease was a good-sized half-decked boat of some twenty-sixfeet long and eight feet beam. She was very deep, and carried threetons of stone ballast in her bottom. She drew about six feet of water. She had a lot of freeboard, and carried two lug-sails and a smallmizzen. 

They got in the small boat and rowed off to her. 

"There was no call for you to bring that basket, Master Conway. I knowyou are fond of a fish fried just when it is taken out of the water;and I have got bread and a keg of beer, to say nothing of a mouthfulof spirits in case we get wet. Not that it looks likely we shall, forI doubts if there will be any rain to-night I think there will be morewind perhaps, and that it will get thicker; that's my view of theweather. "

They sailed straight out to sea. Joe had fitted his boat to be workedwith the aid of a boy only. He had a handy winch, by which he hoistedhis heavy lug-sails, and when the weather was rough hauled up histrawls. Of these he carried two, each fourteen feet long, and fishedwith them one out on each quarter. When he reached the fishing groundsix miles out, Joe lowered the mizzen lug and reefed the main, forthere was plenty of wind to keep the boat going at the pace requiredfor trawling under the reduced sail. Then the trawls were gotoverboard, each being fastened to the end of a stout spar lashedacross the deck, and projecting some eight feet on either side, bywhich arrangement the trawls were kept well apart. They were hauledalternately once an hour, two hours being allowed after they were putdown before the first was examined. 

By the time the first net came up the sun had set. The wind hadfreshened a bit since they had started, but there was no sea to speakof. The night had set in thick, and the stars could only occasionallybe seen. Joe had picked out two or three fine fish from the firsthaul, and these he took down and soon had frizzling in a frying-panover the fire, which he had lighted as soon as the boat was undersail. 

"These are for you, Master Conway, " he said. "With your permission Ishall stick to that ere piece of beef your mother was good enough tosend. Fish ain't no treat to me, and I don't often get meat. Keep youreye lifting while I am down below. There ain't many craft about inthese days, still we might tumble against one. "

"I should not see a light far in this mist, Joe. "

"No, you couldn't; and what's worse, many of them don't carry nolights at all. "

"It would be a good thing, Joe, if there was a law to make all vesselscarry lights. "

"Ay, ay, lad; but you see in war times it ain't always convenient. Apeaceful merchantman don't want to show her lights to any privateersthat may happen to be cruising about, and you may be sure that theprivateer don't want to attract the attention of peaceful tradersuntil she is close upon them, or to come under the eye of any of ourcruisers. No, no; there ain't many lights shown now, not in thesewaters. Folks prefer to risk the chance of running into each otherrather than that of being caught by a French privateer. "

Now that the trawls were out there was no occasion for any one toattend to the helm, consequently when Joe announced that the fish wereready Ralph went down and joined him in the cabin. The first hours ofthe night passed quietly. Once an hour a trawl was hauled in and goton board, and as the catches were satisfactory Joe was in capitalspirit. 

"You have brought good luck, Master Conway; and I notices I generallydo well when you are out with me. I am getting more fish to-night thanI have any night for weeks, and if it goes on like this till morning Ishall make a good thing of it. I wants it bad enough, for I am inarrears a bit with my rent. The war has made everything so terribledear that it is as much as a poor man can do to keep his head abovewater. 

"What time is it now, Joe, do you think?"

"About two o'clock, I reckon. It will begin to get light in a coupleof hours, and at five we will up nets and make our way back. "

He had scarcely spoken when he shouted "Ship ahoy! Look out foryourself, lad!" Startled by the suddenness of the cry Ralph lookedround. He saw a crest of white foam a few yards away in the darkness. A moment later something dark passed over his head and a rope brushedhis cheek, and as it did so a black mass struck the boat. There was acrash, a shock, and the Heartsease, after first heeling deeply overunder the pressure, suddenly sank down like a stone. Ralph hadstaggered under the force of the collision, and would have fallen backas the boat heeled over, but instinctively he threw up his arms andhis hand came in contact with the rope that had an instant beforetouched his cheek. He seized it with both hands, and threw his legsround it as the boat went down from under his feet, the whole thingbeing so sudden that it was nearly a minute before he could realizewhat had happened. Then he heard voices talking close by and, as itseemed, above him. 

"Hullo!" he shouted. "Help!" A few seconds later the light of alantern was flashed down upon him. Then a figure crawled out on thespar projecting above his head, seized him by the collar, and liftedhim from the bobstay to which he was clinging on to the bowsprit. Aminute later he was standing on the deck. 

"Thank you!" he exclaimed. "Have you seen anything of the man who waswith me? There were two of us on board. If not, please look for him atonce. "

"I am afraid it's no use, " one of the men said, with a strong foreignaccent; "he has gone down and will never come up again. You come alongwith me to the captain. "

An uneasy feeling seized Ralph as he listened. He could see nothing, for the lantern had been placed in a bucket the moment that he touchedthe deck. At this moment a hail came from the stern of the vessel, andRalph's fears were at once realized, for it was in French. The replywas in the same tongue, and he was led aft. "Take him down below, Jacques, and let's see what he is like. We have suffered no damage, Ihope?"

"Not as far as I could see by the light of the lantern, but thecarpenter has gone below to see if she is making water. "

The captain led the way down into the cabin. This was comfortablyfurnished and lighted by a swinging lamp. "Do you come, down Jacques, I shall want you to interpret. "

The captain was surprised when he saw by the light of the lamp thatthe person they had rescued was a lad, well dressed, and evidentlyabove the condition of fishermen. 

"Now, young sir, who are you, " he asked, "and what have you to say foryourself?" The question was translated by Jacques. 

"I like that, " the lad said indignantly. "What have I to say formyself! I think it's what have you to say for yourselves? We werequietly fishing when you ran over us and sank the boat and drowned myfriend Joe, and haven't even stopped for a moment to see if you couldpick him up. I call it shameful and inhuman!"

The French captain laughed as Jacques translated the speech, thepurport of which he had, indeed, made out for himself, for although hedid not speak English he understood it to some extent. 

"Tell him it was his fault as much as ours. We did not see him till westruck him. And as for his companion, what chance was there of findinghim on such a dark night as this? Why, by the time we had hove roundand got back again we might not have hit it within a quarter of amile. Besides, if he had been alive he would have shouted. "

Ralph saw, when he understood what the captain said, that there wastruth in his words, and that the chances of discovering Joe wouldindeed have been slight even had the vessel headed round. 

"May I ask, " he said, "what ship this is, and what you are going to dowith me?"

"The ship is La Belle Marie of Dunkirk; as to what we are going to dowith you it is not so easy to say. Of course you can jump overboardagain if you like, but if not you can stay on board until we have anopportunity of putting you ashore somewhere. How did you come to be onboard a fishing smack? For I suppose it was a smack that we run down. "

"I live at Dover, " Ralph replied, "and had only come out for a night'sfishing. "

"Well, you are out of luck, " the captain said. "That will do, Jacques. Take him forward and sling a hammock for him. Hang up his clothes inthe cook's galley, they will be dry by the time he wakes. "

Ralph asked no questions, as he was taken forward, as to the characterof La Belle Marie. Six guns were ranged along on each side of herdecks, and this, and the appearance of the captain's cabin, wassufficient to inform him that he had fallen into the hands of a Frenchprivateer. The craft had, indeed, left Dunkirk soon after nightfall, and was making her way down channel with every sail set when she hadrun down the unfortunate fishing boat. 

Jacques, as he hung up the hammock, explained to the sailors whocrowded round the character of the passenger who had so unexpectedlycome on board. 

"Poor lad, " one of the sailors said good-naturedly, "he will be sometime before he sees his mother again. He hasn't got a very brightlookout before him--a long voyage, and then a prison. I will go andsee if the cook has got some water hot. A glass of spirits will do himgood. "

A few minutes later Ralph was wrapped up in a blanket and the warmglow produced by that and the glass of strong grog soon sufficed tosend him soundly to sleep, in spite of the painful uncertainty of hisposition and of his sorrowful thought of his mother, who would in themorning be inquiring for him in vain. It was nearly midday before hewoke. Looking round he saw that he had the forecastle to himself. Hisclothes were lying on a chest close by, and in a few minutes he was ondeck. A sense of disappointment stole over him. He had, while he wasdressing, entertained the hope that on going on deck he should see anEnglish cruiser in pursuit; but the wind had dropped and it was stillthick, and his vision was confined to a circle a quarter of a mile indiameter. Jacques nodded to him good-temperedly, for all on board theprivateer were in high spirits. Their voyage had begun propitiously;the darkness of the preceding night had enabled them to ran thegantlet of the British cruisers in the narrow part of the channel, they were now well down the coast of France, and the fog reduced theirchances of being seen by an enemy to a minimum. 

"Where about are we?" Ralph asked. 

"We are somewhere off the mouth of the Seine, and I guess some fifteenmiles from land. "

"Oh, we are working down the channel then, " Ralph said. "And where arewe going to?"

"Ah! that question is for the captain to answer if he chooses, "Jacques said. 

"Are we going to touch at the next French port?" Ralph askedanxiously. 

"Not that I know of, unless we have the luck to pick up one of yourmerchantmen, and we might then escort her into port. But unless we dothat we do not touch anywhere, luckily for you; because, after all, itis a good deal pleasanter cruising in the Belle Marie than kickingyour heels inside a prison. I know pretty well, for I was for fouryears a prisoner in your English town of Dorchester. That is how Icame to speak your language. It was a weary time of it; though we werenot badly treated, not half so bad as I have heard that the men insome other prisons were. So I owe you English no ill-will on thataccount, and from what I have heard some of our prisons are worse thanany of yours. I used to knit stockings and wraps for the neck. My oldmother taught me when I was a boy. And as we were allowed to sell thethings we made I got on pretty comfortable. Beside, what's the use ofmaking yourself unhappy? I had neither wife nor children to befretting about me at home, so I kept up my spirits. "

"How did you get back?" Ralph asked. "Were you exchanged?"

"No, " Jacques answered. "I might have waited long enough before that. I can't make out myself why the two governments don't agree toexchange prisoners more quickly. I suppose they take about an equalnumber. Your men-of-war ships capture more prisoners than ours, but wemake up for it by the numbers our privateers bring in. At any ratethey might exchange as many as they can, say once in six months. Onewould have thought they would be glad to do so so as to savethemselves the trouble and expense of looking after and feeding such anumber of useless mouths. Governments always have curious ways. "

"But how did you get away from prison?" Ralph asked. 

"It was a woman, " the man replied. "It is always women who help menout of scrapes. It was the wife of one of the jailers. She used tobring her husband's dinner sometimes when we were exercising in theyard. When I first went there she had a child in her arms--a littlething about a year old. I was always fond of children; for we had alot at home, brothers and sisters, and I was the eldest. She saw melook at it one day, and I suppose she guessed it reminded me of home. So she stopped and let me pat its cheek and talk to it. Then I knittedit some socks and a little jacket and other things, and that made asort of friendship between us. You can always win a woman's heart bytaking notice of her child. Then she got to letting me carry it abouton my shoulder while she took her husband's dinner in to him, if hedid not happen to be in the yard. And when the little thing was ableto totter it would hold on to my finger, and was always content tostay with me while she was away. So it went on till the child was fouryears old. 

"One day it was running across the court to its mother as she came outfrom the prison. Two of the men were what you call skylarking, andrunning one way while the child was running the other. One of themknocked it down heavily. It was an accident, and if he had picked itup and been sorry, there would have been an end of it; but instead ofthat the brute burst into a loud laugh. By this time I was as fond ofthe child as if it had been my own, and I rushed furiously at him andknocked him down. As he sprang to his feet he drew a knife he used inwood-carving and came at me. I caught the blow on my arm and closedwith him, and we fell together. The guard in the yard rushed up andpulled us apart, and we both got a fortnight's close confinement forfighting. 

"The first time I came into the yard again and met the woman with herchild, the little one ran to me; but the woman, a little to mysurprise, said nothing. As she passed I lifted the child up, and aftergiving me a hug and a kiss she said: 'Mammy gave me this to give toyou;' and she put a little note into my hand. I took the firstopportunity to read it in a quiet corner. It was as follows: 'DearJacques--I saw how nobly you stood up for my Carrie the other day, andhow you got wounded in protecting her. You have always been good toher. I have often thought I might help you to escape, but was afraidto try. Now I will do so. It will not be easy, but I will manage it. Do not be impatient; the child will give you another note when I havequite arranged things. I shall not talk much to you in future, or elsewhen you have got away I may be suspected; so do not be surprised atmy seeming cold. '

"After that the woman only brought her child once a week or so to theprison, and only gave me a nod as she passed through the yard. Uponthe third visit of the child it gave me a little packet containing twoor three small steel saws and a little bottle of oil. On the paperwhich held them was written, 'For the bars. You shall have a rope nexttime. ' Sure enough next time the child had hidden in its frock a hankof very thin cord, which I managed as I was playing with her to slipunobserved into my breast. 'Mammy says more next time. ' And next timeanother hank came. There was a third, and a note, 'Twist the threeropes together and they will be strong enough to bear you. On thethird night from this, saw through the bars and lower yourself intocourt. There will be no moon. Go to the right-hand corner of the courtin the rear of the prison. Fasten a knife to one end of the cord andthrow it over the wall. I shall be waiting there with a friend. Directly you feel the cord jerked climb up to the top of the wall. Ifyou can find something to fasten your end of the rope to you can slidedown it. If not, you must jump. There will be a boat ready to take youaway. '

"It all turned out well. It was a pitch dark night, raining andblowing, and the sentries kept inside their boxes. I got up to the topof the wall all right, and was able to fasten the rope on to thespikes and slide down on the other side. The woman was there with aman, whom she told me was her brother. They took me to a creek twomiles away and there put me on board a boat, and I was rowed out to asmuggling craft which at once set sail, and two days later was landedat Cherbourg. So that's how I came to learn English. "

"Did you ever hear whether the woman who helped you was suspected?"

"I saw her brother two months afterward on one of the trips that thecraft he belonged to made. He said that of course there were a greatmany inquiries made, and his sister had been questioned closely. Sheswore that she had hardly spoken to me for the last two months andthat she had given me nothing; which in a way was true enough, for shehad not handed them to me herself. The prisoners bore her out abouther not coming near me, for it had been noticed that she was not asfriendly as she had been. Some had thought her ungrateful, whileothers had fancied that she was angry at my interfering and making atumult about the child. Anyhow, whatever suspicions they might havehad they could prove nothing. They forbade her entering the prison infuture; but she didn't mind that so long as her husband, who had beenemployed a good many years there, did not lose his situation. He hadbeen kept by her in entire ignorance of the whole affair, and was veryindignant at her having been suspected. I sent her a letter of thanksby her brother, and a little present for her and one for the child. The brother was to give them to her as if from himself, so that thehusband should not smell a rat, but of course to make her understandwho they came from. "

"Well, I only hope, Jacques, " Ralph said, "that when I get shut up inone of your prisons I shall find some French woman to aid me toescape, just as you found an English woman to help you; only I hope itwon't be four years coming about. "

"I think we look sharper after our prisoners than you do; still it maybe. But it will be some time before you are in prison; and if you playyour cards well and learn to speak our language, and make yourselfuseful, I do not think the captain is likely to hand you over to theauthorities when we get back to a French port again. "

"I am quite ready to do my best to learn the language and to makemyself useful, " Ralph said. "It is always a good thing to know French, especially as I am going into the army some day; that is if I get backagain in time. "

"Oh, I think you will do so, " the man said. "You keep up your spiritswell, and that is the great thing. There are many boys that would sitdown and cry if they found themselves in such a scrape as you have gotinto. "

"Cry!" Ralph repeated indignantly. "You don't suppose a boy of my ageis going to cry like a girl! An English boy would be ashamed to cry, especially when Frenchmen were looking on. "

Jacques laughed good-temperedly. "There would be nothing to be ashamedof. We are not like you cold English! A Frenchman laughs and singswhen he is pleased, and cries when he is sorry. Why shouldn't he?"

"Oh, I can't tell you why, " Ralph replied, "only we don't do it. Idon't say I shouldn't halloo out if I were hurt very much, though Ishould try my best not to; but I feel sure I shouldn't cry like agreat baby. Why, what would be the good of it?"

Jacques shrugged his shoulders. "People are different, " he said. "Aman is not a coward because he cries. I have seen two boys fightingand pulling each other's hair and crying all the time, but they foughton. They did not cry because they were afraid. "

"Pulling each other's hair!" Ralph repeated contemptuously. "Theyought to have been ashamed of themselves, both of them. I don't callthat fighting at all. I should call it disgusting. Why, in Englandeven girls would hardly pull each other's hair. I have seen two orthree fights between fishwomen in Dover, and even they did not go onlike that. If that's the way French boys fight, no wonder our soldiersand sailors--" But here it struck Ralph that the remark he was aboutto make would be altogether out of place under present circumstances. He was therefore seized with an opportune fit of coughing, and thenturned the conversation by asking Jacques at what rate he thought thevessel was slipping through the water. 

A few minutes later the first mate came up and told Jacques to informRalph that the captain had ordered him to be supplied with clothessimilar to those worn by the rest of the crew, and that he was to betold off to take his post regularly as a boy in the starboard watch. Ralph was well pleased at the news. He felt that his best chance wasto make himself useful on board, and to become one of the crew as soonas possible, so that in case an English merchantman was met with andcaptured he should not be sent with her crew as a prisoner to a Frenchport. As long as he was on board various opportunities of escape mightpresent themselves. He might slip away in port, or the brig might becaptured by an English cruiser or privateer; whereas, once lodged in aFrench prison, the chances of such good fortune as had befallenJacques were slight indeed. He therefore at once turned to withalacrity. 

That he would have a hard time of it for a bit he felt sure; foralthough in Jacques he had evidently found a friend, he saw by thescowling glances of several of the men as he passed near them that thenational feeling told heavily against him. Nor was it surprising thatit should be so. The animosity between the two nations had lasted solong that it had extended to individuals. Englishmen despised as wellas disliked Frenchmen. They were ready to admit that they might bebrave, but considered them as altogether wanting in personal strength. The popular belief was that they were half-starved, and existedchiefly upon frogs and hot water with a few bits of bread and scrapsof vegetables in it which they called soup, and that upon the seaespecially they were almost contemptible. Certainly the longsuccession of naval victories that our fleets had won afforded somejustification for our sailors' opinion of the enemy. But in fightsbetween detached vessels the French showed many times that in point ofcourage they were in no way inferior to our own men; and indeed ourvictories were mainly due to two causes. In the first place, thesuperior physique and stamina of our men, the result partly of raceand partly of feeding; they were consequently able to work their gunsfaster and longer than could their adversaries. In the second placethe British sailor went into battle with an absolute conviction thathe was going to be victorious; while the Frenchman, on the other hand, although determined to do his best to win, had from the first doubtswhether the British would not be as usual victorious. 

It is probable that the French sailors hated us far more than our mendid them. We had lowered their national prestige, had defeated themwhenever we met them, had blockaded their ports, ruined their trade, inflicted immense damage upon their fisheries, and subsidized othernations against them, and were the heart and center of the coalitionagainst which France was struggling to maintain herself. It was nottherefore surprising that among the hundred and ten men on board LaBelle Marie there were many who viewed Ralph with hostile eyes and whoonly refrained from personal violence owing to the strict order thecaptain had given that he should be well treated. 

Toward midday the fog lifted suddenly and the wind freshened, andlookouts were stationed in the tops. There was little hope indeed ofany English merchantmen having come over so far toward the Frenchcoast, but British cruisers might be anywhere. A few distant sailscould be seen far out on the horizon proceeding up or down channel;but the captain of La Belle Marie had no idea of commencing operationsuntil very much further away from the shores of England. All day thevessel ran down the French coast; and although he was a captive, andevery mile reeled off the log took him further from home, Ralph couldnot help admiring the speed at which the brig slipped through thewater, cutting the waves with her sharp bow and leaving scarcely aripple behind her, so fine and clean was her run. Very different wasthis smooth, gliding motion from the quick plunge and shock of thebluff-bowed fishing boat to which he was accustomed. The sails hadbeen scrubbed until there was not a speck upon them. The masts werelofty and tapering, the rigging neat and trim, and every stay as tautas iron. 

We could fight our ships better than the French, but as far asbuilding and rigging went they were vastly our superiors; and La BelleMarie looked to Ralph almost like a gentleman's yacht in its cleannessand order, and in these respects vied with the men-of-war that he hadso often watched from the heights of Dover. He had, however, butlittle time for admiration; for he was kept at work rubbing andpolishing the guns and brass-work, and was not idle for a minute fromthe time he came on deck dressed as a cabin-boy on the morning afterhe was picked up until sunset. There were two French boys about hisown age forward, and as soon as his work was done and the eveningwatch set they began to torment him; for, acting as they did asservants to the officers, they did not take share in the watch. 

Fortunately Jacques had gone below at the same time as Ralph; and whenthe boys, finding that their taunts had no effect whatever upon Ralph, began to get bolder, and one of them snatched off his cap, Jacquesinterfered at once. "Look here, youngsters, " he said, "this youngEnglish boy is at present one of the crew of this brig, and he hasjust the same right to fair treatment as any one else, so I warn youif you interfere with him you will have to fight him fairly. I knowenough of these English boys to know that with your hands you wouldnot have the least chance with him. He could thrash you both at once;for even little English boys do not wrestle, tear, and kick, but hitstraight out just as the men do. 

"With swords it would be different, but in a row between you and himit would be just the naked hands. So I advise you to leave him alone, for if you make him fight I will see fair play. All the time I was aprisoner in England I was well treated by his people, and just as Iwas treated myself and saw other French prisoners treated so I willsee him treated. Before this voyage is over it is not impossible thetables will be turned, and that you may find yourselves prisoners inthe hands of the English; so I recommend you to behave to him in thesame way you would like to be treated yourselves if you were takenprisoners. I can see the lad is good-tempered and willing. He is astranger here among us all, he can't speak a word of our language, andhe has a right to fair treatment. When he gets to know our languagehe will be able to shift for himself; but until he does I mean to lookafter him, and any one who plays tricks on him has got to talk to me. "

As Jacques Clery was one of the most powerful and active men on boardthe brig, this assertion was sufficient to put a stop to practicaljoking with Ralph, and the lad had a much easier time of it than heexpected. The men, finding him willing to work and anxious to obligein every way, soon took to him; and by paying attention to their talk, and asking the French name of every object on board the ship, it wasnot many days before Ralph found himself able so far to understandthat he could obey orders, and pull and haul on any sheet that neededhandling. 

Upon the second day, the wind having dropped again, more sail was set, and when the word was given to go aloft he went up with the rest; andalthough he was of little practical use in loosing the gaskets, hesoon shook off his first feelings of discomfort and nervousness onseeing how carelessly and unconcernedly the men on each side of himdid their work, and before he had been many days at sea was as quickand active aloft as any of the hands on board the brig. After runningdown nearly as far as Bordeaux the vessel's head was pointed west, andby nightfall the French coast was out of sight. A vigilant lookout wasnow kept, one man being constantly stationed aloft, and by theincreased animation of the crew Ralph judged that they would soonarrive at a point where they should be on the course of homeward boundmerchantmen. He had quite made up his mind that, although ready in allother matters to do his duty as one of the crew of La Belle Marie, nothing should induce him to take part in a fight against his owncountrymen. 

As soon as night fell sail was reduced, and in the morning when ateight bells Ralph came on deck with his watch he found that the wholeof the upper sails had been taken off her and the topsails lowered onthe cap, and the brig was only moving through the water at the rate oftwo or three knots an hour. He guessed that she must be just upon thetrack of ships, and that her object in thus taking off sail was tocatch sight of vessels in the distance while she herself would beunobserved by them. During the course of the day several sail wereseen passing, but all at a considerable distance. Either the captaindid not think that it was safe to commence operations at present, orhe did not like the look of some of the passing vessels; but at anyrate he made no movement to close with any of them, and it was notuntil nightfall that sail was again hoisted and the brig proceeded onher course. 

Ralph noticed that she carried no light, and that even the binnaclewas carefully shaded so that its light could not be seen except by thehelmsman. At midnight his watch went on deck, and Ralph perceived thatwhile he had been below the sail had again been greatly reduced, andnoticed that from time to time the officer on watch swept the horizonwith his night-glass. He apparently observed nothing until about twoo'clock, when he stood for some time gazing intently astern. Then heturned, gave an order to a sailor, who went below, and two or threeminutes later the captain came on deck. After speaking to the officerhe too gazed intently astern. Then the ship's course was suddenlychanged, the sheets eased off, and for half an hour she ran at a sharpangle to the course she had before been following, then she wasbrought up into the eye of the wind and laid to. 

Although Ralph strained his eyes in the direction in which the captainhad been looking, he could see nothing; but he had no doubt a sail hadbeen seen coming up astern, and that the object of the change ofcourse was to let her pass them without their being seen. He ratherwondered that, instead of running off the wind, the captain had notput her about so as to take her position to windward instead of toleeward of the vessel behind; but he soon arrived at the object of themaneuver. There were no stars to be seen, and the bank of cloudsoverhead stretched away to the east, and the horizon there wasentirely obscured; but to the west the sky was lighter, and a vesselwould be clearly visible to the eye. The brig, therefore, in theposition she had taken up could not be seen, while she herself wouldobtain a full view of the other as she passed her. 

In an hour the other ship came along. She was a large ship, fullrigged, and the French sailors, who had all come on deck, nowclustered against the bulwarks and eagerly discussed her. She wasabout two miles to windward, and opinions differed as to whether shewas a man-of-war or an Indiaman. Ralph rather wondered that theprivateer had not tried to get alongside in the darkness and take thevessel by surprise, but he understood now that there was a strongprobability that the Belle Marie might have caught a tartar and havesuddenly run herself under the guns of a British frigate. As soon asthe vessel had passed, the braces were manned and the yards swunground, and the brig continued her course. She was brought up almost tothe wind's-eye and sailed as closely as possible, so that when morningbroke she should have recovered the leeway she had made and should beto windward of the vessel she was pursuing, no matter how much astern. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE PRIVATEER'S RENDEZVOUS. 

When morning broke the vessel that the privateer had been watching inthe night was seen to be three miles directly ahead. She was a largevessel, and for some time opinions differed as to whether she was afrigate or an Indiaman; but when it became quite light a patch or twoin the canvas showed that she could not be a man-of-war, and all sailwas at once crowded on to the privateer. The other ship at once shookout more canvas, but half an hour sufficed to show that the privateerwas much the faster vessel. The stranger took in the extra canvas shehad set, and continued her course as if altogether regardless of theprivateer. 

"They have made up their minds to fight, " Jacques said to Ralph. "Nowhe finds that he can't outsail us he has got on to easy workingcanvas. She is a big ship, and I expect carries heavier metal than wedo. It may be that she has troops on board. "

The brig kept eating out to windward until she gained a position abouta mile upon the starboard quarter of the Indiaman, then the longpivot-gun was leveled and the first shot fired. The crew had by thistime all taken their places by the guns, and Ralph and the other boysbrought up powder and shot from the magazine. It was not without astruggle that Ralph brought himself to do this; but he saw that arefusal would probably cost him his life, and as some one else wouldbring up the cartridges in his place his refusal would not benefit hiscountrymen. 

He had just come on deck when the gun was fired, and saw the waterthrown up just under the ship's stern, and the shot was dancing awayto leeward. The next shot struck the merchantman on the quarter. Amoment later the vessel was brought up into the wind and a broadsideof eight guns fired. Two of them struck the hull of the privateer, another wounded the mainmast, while the rest cut holes through thesails and struck the water a quarter of a mile to windward. With anoath the captain of the privateer brought his vessel up into the wind, and then payed off on the other tack. 

The merchantman carried much heavier metal than he had given hercredit for. As she came round too, some redcoats were seen on herdeck. Apparently well satisfied with the display she had made of herstrength, the ship bore off again and went quietly, on her way, whilethe privateer was hove to and preventer stays put to the mainmast. Ralph remained below for some time; he heard the men savagely cursing, and thought it was best for him not to attract attention at present. The sails were lowered and the brig drifted quietly all day; but aboutten o'clock Ralph heard a creaking of blocks, and knew that the sailshad been hoisted again. Half an hour later the watch below was orderedto come quietly on deck. Ralph went up with the rest. 

For a quarter of an hour he could see nothing, and then he made out adark mass a few hundred yards to leeward; immediately afterward thehelm was put up, and the brig run down toward the stranger. Twominutes later there was a sharp hail, followed instantly by shouts andthe sound of feet; but before the crew could gain the deck and preparefor defence the brig was alongside, and a moment later her crew sprangupon the decks of the stranger. A few blows were given; but theresistance offered was slight, and in a very short time the crew weredisarmed or driven below, and the vessel in the possession of theprivateer. She proved to be a small bark on her way out to theMediterranean. She carried only twenty hands and four small guns, andwas laden with hardware. 

The privateer's crew at once set to work upon her. At first Ralphcould not understand what they were about, but he was not long indiscovering. The wedges round the mainmast were knocked out, thetopmast lowered to the deck, the shrouds and stays slacked off, andthen the mast was lifted and carried on board the brig. As soon asthis was done, the second mate of the brig with eight sailors went onboard as a prize crew. Everything was made taut and trim for them bythe brig's crew. The English prisoners had already been disarmed andbattened down in the hold, and the prize crew then hoisted sail andprepared to take her under mizzen and foremast only to a French port. This, if she had luck, she would reach in safety, but if on the wayshe fell in with a British privateer or cruiser she would of coursefall an easy prey. 

No sooner was the bark on her way than the privateersmen set to workto lift out their injured mainmast, and to replace it with that theyhad brought on board from the bark. When daylight broke anxiousglances were cast round the horizon; but although a few distant sailswere seen, none of these were following a course that would bring themnear the brig, and the latter without sail and with her foremast alonestanding would not be likely to be noticed. Ralph could not helpadmiring the energy with which the crew worked. Ordinarily they wereby no means a smart crew, and did their work in a slow and slovenlymanner; but each man now felt the importance of getting everythinginto order before an enemy appeared, and so well did they work that bymidday the new mast was in its place, and before sunset the topmastwith all its yards and gear was up and the sails ready for hoisting. 

Ralph had been in a state of anxiety in the early part of the nightlest he should be sent on board the bark and carried as a prisoner toFrance. But no one seemed to give a thought to him, and it was notuntil far on in the morning that the captain happened to notice himhard at work with the rest. 

"Ah, are you there?" he said. "If I had thought of it I should havesent you into Best in the bark. "

Ralph did not understand the words but he guessed at the meaning, andsaid, smiling, "I am quite content to remain where I am. "

"Tell him, Jacques Clery, that I have noticed that he works willingly, and as long as he behaves well he shall have the same treatment as ifhe belonged really to the crew; but warn him that if he is caught atany time making a signal, or doing anything to warn a vessel we may beapproaching, his brains will be blown out at once. "

Jacques translated the warning. 

"That's all right, " Ralph said. "Of course I should expect nothingelse. "

As soon as the repairs were completed the sails were hoisted and thebrig proceeded on her way. In the days that followed it seemed toRalph that the tactics of the privateer had changed, and that therewas no longer any idea of making prizes. A sharp lookout was indeedkept for any English cruisers, but no attention was paid to any sailin the distance as soon as it was determined that these were not shipsof war. Four days later, instead of there being as before five or sixsail in sight at one point or other of the horizon, the sea wasabsolutely deserted. He remarked upon this to his friend Jacques. Thelatter laughed. 

"We are out of their course now, my lad. We passed the latitude ofCape St. Vincent yesterday evening, and we are now pretty well off thecoast of Africa. Nine out of ten of the ships we have seen were eitherbound to the Mediterranean or on their way home. Now that we havepassed the mouth of the strait we shall not run across many sail. "

"Where are we going to, then?" Ralph said. 

"Well, I don't think there is any harm in telling you now, that we arebound south, but how far is more than I know. I expect first we shallgo west and try and pick up some prizes among the islands, and afterthat perhaps go round the cape and lie in wait for Indiamen on theirway home. You see, one of those ships is worth a dozen of theseMediterranean traders, and one is not bothered down there as one isbetween the strait and the channel with your cruisers and privateers;they swarm so there that one can hardly fire a gun without bringingthem down on us. I don't suppose the captain would have meddled withthat Indiaman if it hadn't been that he thought the owners would bepleased by a prize being sent in so soon. As to the bark, we wereobliged to take her to get a new mast. It would never have done tohave started on a long cruise with a badly-injured spar. "

"But I should think it would be difficult to send home prizes from theWest Indies, " Ralph said. 

"Well, you see, although you have taken most of our islands, there arestill two or three ports we can take prizes into. Beside, we can takethe best goods out, and if the ship isn't worth the risk of sending toFrance burn her. Then, too, one can spare hands for prizes betterthere; because one can always ship a few fresh hands--Spaniards, Mulattos, or blacks--in their place. "

"But you can't do that in the case of the Indiamen. "

"No; but a single laden Indiaman is enough to pay us well for all ourtrouble. We can put a crew of thirty hands on board her and send herhome. There is little risk of a recapture till we get near France. Wehave only to hoist the English flag if we do happen to meet anything. "

Ralph was glad to hear that the ship was bound for the West Indies, ashe thought opportunities for escape would be likely to presentthemselves among the islands. Madeira was sighted three days later, and after running south for another four or five hundred miles, thebrig bore away for the west. By dint of getting Jacques Clery totranslate sentences into French, and of hearing nothing but thatlanguage spoken round him, Ralph had by this time begun to makeconsiderable progress in the language. Not only was he anxious tolearn it for the sake of passing away the time and making himselfunderstood, but his efforts were greatly stimulated by the fact thatif any of the crew addressed him in French a cuff on the head wasgenerally the penalty of a failure to comprehend him. The consequencewas that when six weeks after sailing the cry of land was shouted bythe lookout in the tops, Ralph was able to understand almosteverything that was said, and to reply in French with some fluency. Asthe brig sailed along the wooded shores of the first island they fellin with, Ralph was leaning against the bulwarks watching with deepinterest the objects they were passing. 

"I can guess what you are thinking about, " Jacques Clery said, takinghis place quietly by his side. "I have been through it all myself andI can guess your feelings. You are thinking how you can escape. Now, you take my advice and don't you hurry about it. You are doing wellwhere you are. Now you begin to talk French and understand orders it'sa good deal easier for you than it was, and the men are beginning toregard you as one of themselves; but you may be sure that you will bewatched for a time. You see, they daren't let you go. If you were toget to one of the English ports here we should have five or six ofyour men-of-war after us in no time. 

"If it was not for that I don't suppose the captain would object toput you ashore. He has evidently taken a fancy to you, and is pleasedwith the way in which you have taken things and with your smartnessand willingness. Beside, I don't think he considers you altogether asa prisoner. Running you down in the way we did in the channel wasn'tlike capturing you in a prize, and I think if the captain could seehis way to letting you go without risk to himself he would do it. Ashe can't do that he will have a sharp watch kept on you, and I adviseyou not to be in any hurry to try to escape. You must remember if youwere caught trying it they would shoot you to a certainty. "

"I should be in no hurry at all, Jacques, if it were not that the brigis hunting for English vessels. You know what you would feel yourselfif you were on board a ship that was capturing French craft. "

"Yes, that is hard, no doubt, " Jacques agreed; "and I don't say to youdon't escape when you get a chance, I only say wait until the chanceis a good one. Just at present we are not specially on the lookout forprizes. We are going to join two other vessels belonging to the sameowners. They have been out here some time and have got a snughiding-place somewhere, though I don't think any one on board exceptthe captain knows where. "

For three weeks the brig cruised among the islands. They had picked upno prizes in that time, as the captain did not wish to commenceoperations until he had joined his consorts and obtained informationfrom them as to the British men-of-war on the station. They hadoverhauled one or two native craft, purchased fish and fruit, andcautiously asked questions as to the cruisers. The answers were notsatisfactory. They learned that owing to the numbers of vessels thathad been captured by the privateers a very vigilant lookout was beingkept; that two or three French craft that had been captured by thecruisers had been bought into the service, and were constantly insearch of the headquarters of the privateers. This was bad news; foralthough the brig with her great spread of canvas could in light windsrun away from any of the ships of war, it was by no means certain shewould be able to do so from the converted privateers. 

One morning two vessels--a schooner and a brig--were seen coming rounda headland. The captain and officers examined them with theirtelescopes, and a flag was run up to the masthead. Almost immediatelytwo answering flags were hoisted by the strangers, and an exclamationof satisfaction broke from the captain:

"We are in luck, " he said. "If we had not run across them we mighthave had to search for the rendezvous. I have got the spot marked downon the chart, but they told me before sailing that they understood itwas very difficult to find the entrance, and we might pass by within ahundred yards without noticing it. "

In half an hour the ships closed up together, and the captains of theother crafts came on board in their boats. A hearty greeting wasexchanged between them and the captain of La Belle Marie, and thethree then descended to the cabin. After a time they reappeared, andthe visitors returned to their respective ships. Five minutes laterthe schooner got under way, and La Belle Marie followed her, leavingthe other brig to continue her cruise alone. Toward evening theschooner ran in toward a precipitous cliff, the brig keeping close inher wake. Ralph had no doubt that they were now close to the spot theprivateers used as their rendezvous, but he could detect no openinginto the cliff ahead, and it looked as if the schooner was leading theway to destruction. Not until within a cable's length of the shorecould any opening be discovered by the keenest eye. Then when theschooner was within her own length of the cliff her helm was putabout. She came round, and in a moment later disappeared. Anexclamation of surprise broke from all on board the brig, for they nowsaw that instead of the cliff stretching in an unbroken line itprojected out at one point, and the precipitous headway concealed anextremely narrow passage behind it. 

A moment later the brig imitated the maneuver of the schooner andpassed in between two lofty cliffs, so close that there were but a fewyards to spare on either side of her. Fifty yards ahead the channelmade a sharp turn again, and they entered a basin of tranquil waterthree or four hundred yards across. At the further end the shoresloped gradually up, and here several large storehouses had beenerected, and ways laid down for the convenience of hauling up andrepairing the vessels. 

"What do you think of that, youngster?" Jacques said exultantly. "Agrand hiding-place is it not?"

"It is indeed, " Ralph replied. "Why, they might cruise outside forweeks looking for the place and they wouldn't find it, unless a boathappened to row along at the foot of the cliffs. "

As soon as the anchor was down the crew were at once given leave to goashore, and ramble about to stretch their legs after their two months'confinement on board. Ralph was proceeding to take his place in one ofthe boats when the captain's eye fell upon him. 

"Come below with me, young fellow, " he said in French. "Jacques Clery, I shall want you too. "

"I do not think there is much need of interpreting, captain, " thesailor said, as he followed the others into the cabin. "The lad canget on very fairly in French now, and will certainly understand thesense of anything you may say to him. "

"Look here, my lad, " the captain began, "you have been fairly treatedsince you came on board this brig. "

"I have been very kindly treated, " Ralph said. "I have nothingwhatever to complain of. "

"And we saved your life did we not?"

"Yes, sir, after first nearly taking it, " Ralph said with a smile. 

"Ah, that was just as much your fault as ours. Little fish ought toget out of the way of great ones, and I don't consider we were in anyway to blame in that matter. Still there is the fact in the firstplace we saved your life, and in the second we treated you kindly. "

"I acknowledge that, sir, " Ralph said earnestly; "and I feel verygrateful. You might have sent me with the crew of that bark to prisonhad you chosen, and I am thankful to you that you kept me on board andhave treated me as one of the crew. "

"Now, what I have to say to you is this lad: I know that you arecomfortable enough on board, and I have noticed that Jacques here hastaken you specially under his wing. You work willingly and well andhave the makings of a first-class seaman in you; still I canunderstand that you would much rather be with your own people, andwould be rather aiding them in capturing us than in aiding us tocapture them. Consequently you will if you see an opportunity probablytry to escape. I shall take as good care as I can to prevent you fromdoing so, and shall shoot you without hesitation if I catch you at it. Still you may escape, and I cannot run the risk of having this placediscovered and our trade knocked on the head. I therefore offer you analternative. You will either give me your solemn oath not in any caseto reveal the existence of this place, or I will put you on shore incharge of the party who remain here, and you will stop with them aprisoner till we sail away from this cruising ground, which may be inthree months or may be in a year. What do you say? Don't answer mehastily, and do not take the oath unless you are convinced you cankeep it however great the temptation held out to you to betray us. "

Ralph needed but a minute to consider the proposal. The oath did notbind him in any way to abstain from making an attempt to escape, butsimply to guard the secret of the privateer rendezvous. If he remainedhere on shore he would have no chance whatever of escape, and mightmoreover meet with very rough treatment from those left in charge ofhim. "I am quite ready to take the oath not to reveal the secret ofthis place, captain, " he said. "I do not think that in any case afterhaving been so kindly treated by you I should have been inclined tobetray you. However as you offer me the alternative I am ready to takeany oath you like of silence, and that oath I will assuredly keepwhatever pressure may be laid upon me, it being understood of coursethat the oath in no way prevents my taking any opportunity that maypresent itself of making my escape. "

"That is quite understood, " the captain said. "That is a mere matterof business. You try to escape if you can; I shoot you if I catch youat it. But I do not think you are likely to succeed. But in justice tomy employers and friends I should not be justified in running eventhat slight risk unless convinced that if you succeed you will keepsilence as to this. Now, what oath will you take?"

"No oath can be more binding to me than my promise, sir; but at thesame time I swear upon my word of honor that I will never give anyinformation or hint that will lead any one to the discovery of thisharbor. "

"That will do, " the captain said. "I have liked your face from themoment you came on board, and feel that I can trust your word. "

"I am sure you can do that, captain, " Jacques put in; "from what Ihave seen of the boy I am certain he will keep the promise he hasmade. "

"Very well then, " the captain said; "that is settled. You can go onshore in the next boat, and I shall advise you to take theopportunity, for I warn you that you will not get the chance oframbling on shore again until we return here next time. You need notcome on board before to-morrow morning. "

Half an hour later Ralph went ashore with the last batch of sailors. He soon found that a general license had been granted. A barrel of rumand several casks of wine had been broached, and the men wereevidently bent upon making up for the spell of severe discipline thatthey had lately gone through. 

Jacques Clery had gone ashore in the same boat with Ralph. 

"What are you going to do, lad?"

"I am going for a walk, " Ralph said. "In the first place everything isnew to me and I want to see the vegetation; and in the second place Ican see that in a very short time most of the hands will be drunk, andI dare say quarrelsome, and I don't want either to drink or quarrel. Ithink I am better away from them. "

"You are right boy, and I don't care if I go too. We will take a drinkof wine before we start and fill up our pockets with those biscuits. Iwill get the storekeeper to give us a bottle of wine to take with us, and then we shall be set up for the day. This is my first voyage inthese parts; but I have heard from others of their doings, and don'tcare about getting a stab with a knife in a drunken brawl. I can do myshare of fighting when fighting has got to be done, but I do not carefor rows of this sort. Still I know the men look forward to what youcall a spree on shore, and the captain might find it difficult topreserve discipline if he did not let them have their flingoccasionally. "

Ralph and the sailor each took a biscuit and a draught of wine, andsoon afterward started on their ramble provided with food as arranged. Both were delighted with the luxuriant vegetation, and wandered forhours through the woods admiring the flowers and fruits, abstaining, however, from tasting the latter, as for aught they knew some of thespecies might be poisonous. Presently, however, they came upon somebananas. Neither of them had ever seen this fruit before, but Ralphhad read descriptions of it in books, Jacques had heard of it fromsailors who had visited the West Indies before. They therefore cutsome bunches. "Now we will bring ourselves to an anchor and dine. Timemust be getting on, and my appetite tells me that it must have struckeight bells. " Jacques sat down on the ground, and was about to throwhimself full length when Ralph observed a movement among the deadleaves; an instant later the head of a snake was raised threateninglywithin striking distance of Jacques Clery's neck as he sank backward. Ralph gave a short cry--too late, however, to arrest the sailor'smovements--and at the same moment sprang forward and came down withboth feet upon the snake. 

"What on earth are you doing?" Jacques asked as he scrambled to hisfeet. No answer was made to his question, but he saw at once thatRalph was stamping upon the writhing folds of a snake. In a minute themotion ceased. 

"That was a close shave, Jacques, " Ralph said smiling, though his facewas pale with the sudden excitement. "I did not see it until too lateto give you warning. It was just the fraction of a second, and even asI jumped I thought he would strike your neck before my boot came onhim. "

"You saved my life, lad, " the other said huskily, trembling from headto foot, as he saw how narrowly indeed he had escaped from death. "Ihave been in some hard fights in my time, but I don't know that ever Ifelt as I feel now. I feel cold from head to foot, and I believe thata child could knock me down. Give me your hand, lad. It was splendidlydone. If you had stopped for half a moment to think I should have beena dead man. Good heavens! what an escape I had. "

"I am glad to have been of service for once. You have been so kind tome since I came aboard the brig that it is fair that I should do you agood turn for once. I am not surprised you are shaken, for I feel somyself. We had better both have a drink of wine, and then we can seeabout our meal. "

"No more lying down on the ground for me, " the sailor said. "Once isenough of such a thing as that. However, hand me the bottle. I shallfeel better after that. "

Ralph looked about and presently discovered an open space, free fromfallen leaves or any other shelter for a lurking snake, and persuadedJacques to sit down and eat his biscuit and bananas in comfort. Thesailor did so, but the manner in which his glances kept wanderinground him in search of snakes showed that he had not yet recovered hisequanimity. When they had finished their meal Ralph proposed that theyshould climb up to the highest point of ground they could find, andtake a view over the island. Two hours' walking took them to the topof a lofty hill. From the summit they were enabled to obtain a distantview. The island was, they judged, some seven or eight miles across, and fully twice that length. Several small islands lay within a fewmiles distant, and high land rose twenty miles off. 

"This must be a large island, " Ralph said. "Do you know where we are, Jacques?"

"I have no idea whatever, " the sailor said; "and I don't suppose anyone on board, except the officers, has, any more than me. The chartsare all in the captain's cabin; and I know no more of the geography ofthese islands than I do of the South Seas, and that's nothing. It'squite right to keep it dark; because, though I don't suppose manyfellows on board any of the three craft would split upon us if he werecaptured, because, you see, we each have a share in the profits of thevoyage as well as our regular pay, and, of course, we should lose thatif those storehouses, which are pretty well choked up with goods, wereto get taken, there's never any saying what some mean scamp might doif he were offered a handsome reward. So the fewer as knows the secretthe better. "

"Look Jacques! Look at that full-rigged ship that has just come outfrom behind that island. She looks to me like a frigate. "

"And that she is, " the sailor replied. "Carries forty guns, I shouldsay, by her size. English, no doubt. Well, we had better go downagain, lad. I must report to the captain that this craft is cruisingin these waters. It will be dark before we are back, and I don't wantto be in the woods after dark; there's no saying what one might treadon. I thought that we would stretch ourselves out under the trees forto-night and go aboard in the morning, but I feel different now. Blessyou, I should never close an eye. So I propose as we goes down so asnot to be noticed by them chaps up at the store, and then gets hold ofa boat and rows on board quiet. "

"I am quite willing to do that Jacques. I don't think I should getmuch sleep either in the woods. "

"No, I guess not, lad. Come along; the sun is halfway down already, and I would not be left in these woods after dark, not for six months'pay. The thought of that snake makes me crawl all over. Who would havethought now, when I lugged you in over the bowsprit of La Belle Mariethat night in the channel, that you were going to save my life someday. Well, I don't suppose, lad, I shall ever get quits with you, butif there is a chance you can count upon me. You come to me any nightand say I am going to escape, Jacques, and I will help you to do it, even if they riddle me with bullets five minutes afterward. "

"I shall never ask that of you, Jacques, " Ralph said warmly. "Iconsider we are quits now, though you may not. Indeed, I can tell youthat I don't consider that two months of kindness are wiped out byjust taking a jump on to the back of a snake. "

There were loud sounds of shouting, singing, and quarreling as theypassed near the great fires that were blazing near the storehouse. They reached the waterside without notice, and taking a boat rowed offto the brig. The captain looked over the side:

"Who is that?"

"Jacques Clery and the English lad, captain. "

"You got tired of the noise on shore, I suppose?" the captain said. 

"Not exactly that, captain, for we have not been near the others atall. We took a long walk through the woods up to the top of the hillin the middle of the island and we came back for two reasons. Thefirst because I have been so badly scared by a snake, who would havebit me had not this young fellow leaped on to its back just as he wasabout to strike me in the neck, that I would not have slept on theground for anything; and, in the second place, we came to tell youthat from the top of the hill we saw a large frigate--English, Ishould say, from the cut of her sails--five or six miles off on theother side of the island, and I thought you ought to know about her atonce. "

"Thank you, Jacques; that is important. I was going to sail in themorning, but we must not stir as long as she is in the neighborhood. So this young fellow saved your life, did he?"

"That he did, captain; and it was the quickest thing you ever saw. Iwas just lying down at full length when he caught sight of the snake. There was no time to stop me; no time even to cry out. He just jumpedon a sudden and came down on the brute as it was on the point ofstriking. Had he stopped for one quarter of a second I should havebeen a dead man hours ago. "

"That was a near escape indeed, Jacques. Are they pretty quiet thereon shore? I heard them shouting several times. "

"They seem quarreling a bit, captain; but they are sure to do thatwith all that liquor on hand. "

"They won't come to much harm, " the captain said. "I gave thestrictest orders that all weapons should be left behind before theylanded, and that any man carrying even a knife would have his leavestopped during the rest of the cruise. Beside, the first mate is thereto look after them. I will go ashore myself at daybreak and take alook round from the top of that hill. If that frigate is stillcruising about near the island it must be because they have got somesort of an idea of the whereabouts of our hiding place. We must waittill she moves away. It won't do to risk anything. "

Upon the following morning the captain and Jacques, accompanied byRalph, landed. They passed close by the storehouse, and saw the menstill asleep round the extinguished fires. The captain called out thestorekeeper:

"You can serve out one pannikin of wine to each man, " he said, "but nomore. They will want that to pull them together. Tell the first mateto get them on board as soon as possible, and set them to work to tidyup the ship and get everything ready for setting sail at a moment'snotice. Tell him an English frigate is reported as close to theisland. I am going up to look after her. "

Two hours' steady walking took them to the top of the hill. There wereno signs of any vessel as far as they could see. The captain, who hadbrought his glass with him, carefully examined every island in sight. Presently he uttered an exclamation:

"There are three boats rowing together close under the cliffs there, "he said, pointing to the nearest island. "No doubt the frigate islying behind it. They must be searching for some concealed harbor likeours. _Peste!_ this is awkward. What do you think, Jacques?"

"I should say you were right in what you said last night, captain. They must have got an idea that our rendezvous is somewherehereabouts, though they don't know for certain where, and they aresearching all the island round. If they come along here like that weshall be caught in a trap. A vessel might sail close by withoutsuspecting there was an entrance here, however hard they might belooking for it; but if they send boats rowing along the shore theycouldn't help finding it. Still, there is nothing to prevent oursailing away now, as the island is between us and them. "

"That is so, " the captain said. "But if they come while we are away, in the first place they would capture all the booty in the stores, andin the second place they might lie quiet in the harbor and would sinkthe other ships when they returned. I will go down to the port again, Jacques, and will send up two of the men from the storehouse to keepwatch here, turn and turn about. Do you remain here until you arerelieved. I will leave my glass with you. If there is anything fresh, leave the boy on watch and come down with the news yourself. I musttalk this matter over with the mates. We have no direct interest inthe stores, but we must do the best we can for our owners. "

Jacques and Ralph watched the distant boats through the glass untilthey disappeared round the end of the island, then turned the glassseaward. Jacques was using it at the time. "See!" he exclaimed, "thereare three sails together there. "

"I can see them plainly enough, " Ralph said. "What do you make themout to be?"

"A schooner, a brig, and a three-masted vessel. They are lying closetogether, and I fancy boats are passing between them. However, Icouldn't swear to that. They must be fifteen miles away. I expect theyare our consorts, and a merchantman they have captured. "

"Can they see them from the other side of that island?" Ralph askedexcitedly. 

"I should say they could, " Jacques replied after pausing to calculatethe line of sight. "It depends how far round the frigate is lying, andhow close in shore. But if they have sent any one up on the hillthere, of course they can make them out as plainly as we can. " Jacqueshanded the glass to Ralph. 

"Yes, I think I can make out boats, Jacques. What do you suppose theyare doing?"

"Most likely they are transferring the valuable part of her cargo onboard. "

"What will they do with her then?"

"I expect they will let her go; but of course that depends whether sheis a new ship and worth taking the risk of carrying her to France. "

"They don't burn or sink her, then?"

"No; there would be no good in that; for they wouldn't know what to dowith the crew. Of course they don't want the bother of prisoners here, and they wouldn't want to turn them adrift in the boats. They mightland on some island near and see us going and coming here, and carrythe news to some of your cruisers. No, I expect they will take what isvaluable and let them go--that is if the ship isn't worth sendinghome. I suppose that is so in this case; for if they were going to puta prize crew on board and send it to France, they would not betransferring the cargo. Well, we shall see in another half hour. "

CHAPTER V. 

THE BRITISH CRUISERS. 

An hour passed. During this time the watchers on the hill saw that thebrig had been lying alongside the three-masted vessel, and felt surethat the cargo was being transferred, then the merchantman's sailswere hoisted, and she slowly sailed away. For another hour the othertwo crafts lay motionless, then they hoisted sail and headed for theisland. There was a brisk, steady wind blowing, and they came alongfast through the water. 

"We shall soon see now whether your frigate has made them out, "Jacques said; "but I will not wait any longer but will go and tell thecaptain what is going on. In another hour the others will be up hereto relieve you, then you can bring down the latest news. "

Left alone, Ralph watched anxiously the progress of the distantvessels, turning the glass frequently toward the other island, beyondthe end of which he momentarily expected to see the white sails of thefrigate appear. An hour passed. The schooner and the brig were nowwithin about four miles of the nearest point of the island, and stillthere were no signs of the English ship. Presently he heard voicesbehind him, and two French sailors came up. Ralph was now free toreturn, but he thought he had better wait until the brig and schoonerreached a point where they would be hidden by the island from thesight of any-one who might be watching on the hill six miles away. 

In another half-hour they had reached this point. No signs had beenseen of the frigate, and Ralph felt sure that she must have beenanchored in some bay whose headland prevented her seeing theapproaching craft; for had she noticed them she would assuredly haveset out to intercept them before they reached the island, which layalmost dead to windward of them. He was just turning to go when one ofthe men gave a sudden exclamation. He turned round again and saw thefrigate just appearing from behind the other island. She wasclose-hauled, and it was soon evident by her course that she wasbeating up for the point round which the other two ships haddisappeared. 

Ralph was puzzled at this; for if she had made out the brig andschooner, her natural course would have been to have made for theother end of the island, so as to cut them off as they sailed past it;whereas they would now, when they gained the extremity of the island, find themselves five or six miles astern of the other two craft. TheFrench sailors were equally puzzled, and there was a hot argumentbetween them; but they finally concluded that her appearance at thatmoment must be accidental, and she could not have made out theprivateers. They had just told Ralph to run down with the news to theharbor when a light was thrown upon the mystery; for from the otherend of the island from which the frigate had emerged a large schoonerappeared. Every sail was set, and her course was directed toward thisother end of the island upon which the watchers were standing. The twoFrench sailors burst out into a torrent of oaths, expressive ofsurprise and alarm; for it was evident that from the course theschooner was taking she intended to intercept the two privateers, andengage them until the frigate came to her assistance. 

"Run, boy! run for your life!" one of them exclaimed, "and tell thecaptain. But no; wait a moment, " and he directed the glass upon theschooner. "A thousand curses!" he exclaimed. "It is the Cerf schoonerthe English captured from us six months ago. She is the fastest craftin these waters. Tell the captain that I am coming after you, but yourlegs will beat mine. "

Ralph dashed off at full speed, but as soon as he had fairly distancedthe French sailor he began to run more slowly. For the moment he hadso entered into the feelings of his companions that he had identifiedhimself with them, but now he had time to think, his sympathies swunground to the English ship. He did not particularly want La Belle Marieto be captured; for he had been so well treated on board her that hefelt no ill-will toward her. But her capture meant his deliverance. 

He thought over the matter as he ran, and wondered first why thefrigate did not take the line to cut the privateers off, instead ofgoing round by the other end of the island. He could only suppose thatit was because the schooner was the fastest vessel, and was morelikely to arrive in time at the point. Beside, if she showed therebefore the privateers reached the point they might double back again, and the frigate would make the other end of the island before theywere halfway back. It might be, too, that the captain has suspectedthe truth, knowing that the privateers had a rendezvous somewhere inthat neighborhood, and that his object in remaining so long behind theisland was to give them time to enter their port in ignorance of hisbeing in the neighborhood. At any rate, the great thing was, that theschooner and brig should enter the little harbor before knowing thatthey were pursued. Once in, it would be impossible for them to get outagain and beat off shore with the wind blowing dead on the land, before both the schooner and frigate had rounded their respective endsof the island. 

Therefore, although Ralph ran fast enough to keep well ahead of thesailor, he made no effort to keep up a greater rate of speed than wasnecessary for this. As soon as he reached the shore a boat rowed offfrom the brig to fetch him. He saw with satisfaction that although themen were all on board, no preparations were made for getting under wayat once; and, indeed, the captain would have no anxiety for his ownship, as he would know that the privateers, if they saw the frigatecoming out to meet them, would sail right away from the island, andthe frigate would be sure to pursue until out of sight of land. 

"What news, boy?" the captain asked as the boat came close alongside. "Is the frigate in chase of the others?"

"Yes, sir, " Ralph replied; "the frigate and a schooner are both inchase. "

"Which way are they bearing?"

"The privateers do not know they are chased sir. The frigate did notshow round the island over there until the schooner and brig werehidden behind the end of this island. She made toward the western end, and the schooner is making for the eastern end. The sailors who cameup told me to tell you that the schooner is the Cerf, one of thefastest vessels out here. "

The captain uttered an exclamation of dismay, which was echoed bythose standing round him. 

"Row out through the entrance, " he shouted to the coxswain of theboat, "and warn the others of the danger! Tell them to make straightout. If they come in here, we shall all be caught in a trap together!"

The oars dipped in the water, but before the boat was fairly in motionthere was an exclamation, for the head sail of the schooner glided inpast the projecting cliff. A moment later the whole vessel came intoview. 

"Bring the boat back alongside!" the captain shouted. "I will go onboard her at once. She may get out in time yet!"

As the schooner rounded up her sails came down, and she headedstraight toward the brig. The captain of the Belle Marie stood up inthe stern-sheet of the boat, shouting and waving his hands andgesticulating to them to get up sail again. Those on board theschooner looked on in surprise, unable to guess his meaning. 

"There are two English cruisers, one coming round each end of theisland!" he shouted as he approached the schooner. "Get out again ifyou can, otherwise they must catch us all in here!"

The captain in the schooner at once saw the emergency, and roared outorders. The boats were all lowered at once, and the men tumbled onboard. Hawsers were lowered from the bows, and they began at once totow her head round, for there was not a breath of wind in theland-locked harbor. 

"How much time have we got?" the captain asked as the schooner's headcame slowly round. 

"I don't know, " the other captain replied. "It's a question ofminutes, anyhow. Ah, here is the brig!" and the boat dashed forwardand he gave similar orders to those that had been given to theschooner. 

"Get them both round!" the captain shouted. "I will row out throughthe entrance and give you warning if these accursed cruisers are insight. "

The boat dashed through the narrow entrance, and at once felt the fullforce of the breeze. "Dead on shore, " the captain muttered bitterly. "They will have to work right out into the arms of one or other ofthem. "

They rowed a hundred yards out, when, beyond the furthermost pointthey could see to the east, the sails of the schooner were perceived. 

"Take her round, " the captain said sharply. "It's too late now, wehave got to fight for it. "

They rowed back through the entrance. The schooner slowly towed by herboats was approaching. 

"It is no use, " the captain said, "you are too late. The schooner hasrounded the end of the island, and with this breeze will be here inhalf an hour. You never can work out in time. Beside, they would seeyou come out; and even if you got away, which you couldn't do, theywould come back and capture the depot. We have got to fight for it, that's evident; and the boats of a fleet could hardly make their wayin here. We had best get the three craft moored with their broadsidesto the entrance. We will blow the boats to tinder if they try to comein, and then we can load up with all the most valuable goods and slipout at night-time. That is our only chance. "

The captain of the schooner jumped into the boat, and they again rowedout into the entrance. He saw at once that the other's advice was theonly one to be followed. It would be impossible to beat off the shorebefore the schooner came up and while they were talking the frigateappeared round the other end of the island. They therefore returnedinto the harbor. The Belle Marie's anchor was raised, and the threevessels moored head and stern across the harbor, a hundred yards fromthe entrance. As soon as this was done strong parties were sent ashorefrom each of the vessels, and six heavy ship's guns that had beenlanded from some captured vessel were dragged from their place nearthe storehouse and planted on the heights, so as to sweep the narrowchannel. 

It was late in the evening before this was finished, and an earthworkthrown up to shelter the men working the guns from musketry fire. Inthe meantime the two ships of war had met outside, and againseparating cruised several times from end to end of the rocky wall, evidently searching for the entrance through which the privateers theyhad been pursuing had so suddenly disappeared. In the morning theFrench sailors were at work early, and two or three strong chains werefastened across the mouth of the passage. 

"Now, " the captain of the Belle Marie said exultantly, as he regainedthe deck of his ship, "we are ready to give them a warm reception. Theboats of all the British cruisers on the station would never forcetheir way through that gap. "

Ralph had not been called upon to assist in the work of preparation, he and Jacques having done their day's work on the journey to the topof the hill and back. He saw from the exultation in the faces of theFrenchmen that they considered their position was impregnable, and heshuddered at the thought of the terrible carnage that would ensue ifthe boats of the English vessels should try to force an entrance. Thefollowing morning a lookout on the cliffs reported that two boats hadleft the ships and were rowing toward the shore. On reaching the footof the cliffs they rowed along abreast at a distance of thirty orforty yards of the shores. They stopped rowing at the mouth of theentrance, and were suddenly hailed by the captain of the schooner, whowas standing on the cliff above. 

"If you try to enter, " he said, "you will be destroyed at once. Wedon't want to harm you if you will leave us alone; but we have gunsenough to blow a whole fleet out of water, and will use them if we aredriven to it. "

"Thank you for your warning, " a voice shouted back from the boats, andthen an order was given, and they rowed back to the ships. 

"Well, have you found the place, Lieutenant Pearson?" the captain ofthe frigate asked as the young lieutenant stepped on deck. 

"Yes, sir, we have found it. It is just where the boat turned and cameout again. "

"I can see no signs of it now, " the captain said, examining the shorewith his telescope. 

"No, sir; you wouldn't until you were within a hundred yards of it. But rowing close in as we were we saw it some time before we gotthere. The rocks overlap each other, and there is a narrow channelsome fifty yards long between them. Apparently this makes a sharp turnat the other end and opens out. We saw nothing of the vessels we werechasing yesterday, but on high ground facing the channel there is abattery of six guns planted so as to rake anything coming in. Thereare some chains across the end. While we were lying on our oars therewe were hailed. " And he then repeated the warning that had been given. 

"Nasty place to get into--eh?" the captain said thoughtfully. 

"Very nasty, sir. You see, the guns would play right down into thechannel; then there are the chains to break down, and perhaps morebatteries, and certainly the ships to tackle when we get inside. "

"Is there width for the frigate to enter?" the captain asked. 

"Just width, I should say, and no more, sir. We should certainly haveto get the yards braced fore and aft, but the ship herself would gothrough with something to spare, I should say. "

"What depth of water is there close in shore?"

"Plenty of depth sir, right up to the foot of the cliffs; but ofcourse I can say nothing as to the depth in the channel. "

"No, of course not, " the captain said. "Well, it's something that wehave run these pests to earth at last, but I see it is going to be noeasy matter to get at them. "

The captain now signaled to the captain of the schooner to come onboard, and when he did so the two officers retired to the cabintogether and had a long consultation. The young officer on coming ondeck got into his boat, and taking Lieutenant Pearson with him rowedfor the cliffs, a few hundred yards to the west of the inlet. Herethey could obtain a view of the channel and its surroundings. Not aman was to be seen. The muzzles of the six guns pointed menacinglydown into the passage, and the chains could be seen just above thewater's edge. 

"I think we will go back now, Mr. Pearson. I really think we ought tobe very much obliged to those fellows for not sinking us. I wonderwhat was their motive in letting us off so easily?"

"I suppose they feel pretty confident that our report is not likely toencourage an attack, and they think that if they were to blow us topieces it would only make Captain Wilson the more determined todestroy them. At least that is the conclusion I came to as I rowedback last time. "

"Yes, I should think that is it, " the young captain said. "It iscertainly as awkward a looking place to attack in boats as I ever saw. Of course were it not for the chains my vessel could get in, and Idare say she has been in there many a time before we captured her, butit would be a very risky thing to take the frigate in without knowinganything of the depth of water either in the channel or inside. "

Both returned to the frigate. "Mr. Pearson's report is fully borneout, Captain Wilson. It would be a most desperate enterprise to attackwith our boats. Half of them would be sunk before they got to thechains; and even if they got past them, which I doubt, there is nosaying what difficulties and obstacles may be inside. "

"And now about the frigate, Captain Chambers. "

"Well, sir, that is for you to decide. I am quite ready to take theschooner in; though with the plunging power of that battery raking herfore and aft I say fairly that it would be a desperate enterprise, andif she had not sufficient way upon her to carry away the chainsnothing could save her. As to the frigate, it seems to me that shewould run an equal risk with the schooner, with the additional dangerthat there may not be water enough for her. "

"Well, it certainly doesn't seem to be an easy nut to crack, " CaptainWilson said. "As we agreed before you started, we should not bejustified in risking both our vessels in assaulting a place which iscertainly extremely formidable, and where there may not be waterenough for the frigate to float. Still the question remains, what isto be done? It is no use anchoring here and trying to starve them out;they may have provisions enough to last them for years, for anythingwe know. If the weather were to turn bad we should have to make off atonce; it would never do to be caught in a hurricane with such a coastas that on our lee. I might send you to Port Royal with a letter tothe admiral, asking him to send us two or three more ships; but Idon't like doing that when it is a mere question of capturing tworascally privateers. "

"I think the admiral would be glad to send them, " the younger captainsaid; "for these two vessels have done a tremendous lot of damageduring the last year. I believe that upward of twenty ships havereported being boarded and stripped by them. "

"But if they came what could they do?" Captain Wilson asked. "You seewe consider it is not worth the risk of throwing away two ships twoforce this passage, still less would it be to risk four. "

"That is so, no doubt, " Captain Chambers agreed. "I should suggestthat however many of us there may be we should all draw off and keep awatch at a distance. Of course it would be necessary to approach atnight, and to lie behind the island somewhere in the daytime just aswe did yesterday, for from the top of that hill they can see anydistance round. "

"Yes, and as soon as it is dusk they will have two or three hours toget away before we can come round here. Beside, with theirnight-glasses from the top of the cliffs they will be sure to be ableto make us out. There is only one other way that I can see of gettingat them, that is to find a landing-place and attack them from onshore. "

"Ah! that's much more hopeful business. As far as I saw yesterdaythere are cliffs all round the island; but it is hard indeed if wecannot find some place where we can manage to effect a landing. 

"This is the plan we must follow out. This afternoon an hour before itgets dark you get up sail and make away as if you were bound for PortRoyal. I shall keep my station here. They will think you have gone offto get some more ships. As soon as it is thoroughly dark bear roundand come back to the island; bring the schooner in close to the cliffson the other side and get into a bay if you can find one. You willthen be out of sight altogether unless somebody happens to look downfrom the edge of the cliffs above you. 

"Then search the whole of the back of the island with boats, keepingat oar's length from the cliffs. There must be some places where a mancan climb up, probably gulleys worn by streams. Then to-morrow nightsail round and join us again. I will be waiting for you about twomiles off the land, and will show a light to seaward so that you willknow where to find me. Then we can talk matters over, and you can getback to the other side again before morning. "

While the captains of the two English vessels were holdingconsultations a similar talk was going on between the three captainsof the privateers, and the conclusion they arrived at was preciselysimilar to that of the English officers. It was agreed that no attackwas likely to be made by the ships, as they would almost certainly besunk by the plunging fire of the battery as they came along thechannel; while an assault by the boats would be sheer madness. 

"We have only to wait and tire them out, " the captain of the schoonersaid, rubbing his hands. "The first gale from the north they must runfor shelter, and before they can come back to their station again weshall be gone. Of course we will load well up beforehand with all thatis really worth taking away, and can let them have the pleasure ofdestroying the rest after we have gone. "

"They will know all that as well as we do, " the captain of La BelleMarie said. "They will never be fools enough to try and starve us out, but you are quite mistaken if you think we are out of danger. "

"Why, what danger can there be?" the others asked. "We have agreedthey cannot attack us by the channel. "

"No, they cannot attack us from the channel, but they can attack usfrom somewhere else now they know we are here. They will find someplace where they can land and take us in rear. "

An exclamation of dismay broke from the other captains. 

"_Sapriste!_ I never thought of that. Of course they can. I have neverexamined the coast on the other side, but there must be places wherethey could land. "

"No doubt there are; and you may be quite sure that is the course theywill adopt. These English are slow, but they are not fools; and I willbet ten to one that is the next move they will be up to. If you like Iwill take a score of my men and cross the island this afternoon, andto-morrow will examine the whole line of shore. If there are only oneor two places they can land at we may be able to defend them; but ifthere are four or five places far apart our force won't be sufficientto hold them all, for they could land two hundred and fifty men fromthose two ships, perhaps a hundred more. "

"That is the best thing to be done, Vipon. Of course you will send usword across directly you see how the land lies. If we find that theycan land in a good many places, there will be nothing for us to do buttry and make a bolt for it. Keeping close in under the cliffs at nightwe may manage to give them the slip, or in any case one if not two ofus may get away. Better that than to run the risk of being all caughtlike rats in a trap here. "

An hour afterward the captain of the Belle Marie started for the otherside of the island with twenty picked men, carrying with them theirarms, axes, and two days' provisions. The rest of the crews wereemployed during the day in filling up the three vessels with the mostvaluable portion of the booty in the storehouses, care being taken notto fill the vessels so deeply as would interfere seriously with theirsailing powers. An arrangement had been made between the captains thatthe Belle Marie should transfer her cargo to the first vessel worthsending to France that she captured, receiving as her share one-thirdof its value if it reached port safely. 

The captain of the Belle Marie was well content with this arrangement, for the storehouses contained the spoils of upward of twenty ships, and his share would therefore be a considerable one, and he would onlyhave to carry the cargo till he fell in with an English merchantman. All speculation as to the British schooner's whereabouts was put anend to the next morning, by a message from Captain Vipon saying shehad been discovered lying close in under the cliffs at the back of theisland, and that her boats were already examining the shore. An hourlater the captain himself arrived. 

"It is as I feared, " he said when he joined the other captains; "thereare three bays about two miles apart and at all of these a landingcould be easily effected. The land slopes gradually down to the edgeof the sea. They might land at any of them, and of course the guns ofthe schooner would cover the landing if we opposed it. "

"Still we might beat them back, " one of the others said. "We canmuster about three hundred men between us, and they are not likely toland more than that. "

"I don't think that would be a good plan, " Captain Vipon said. "Tobegin with, we can't tell which of the three places they may choosefor landing at. We certainly cannot hurry through the woods anythinglike so fast as they can row along the shore, so that would place usat a disadvantage. In the second place, you know very well that wecan't rely upon our men defeating an equal number of these John Bulls;and in the last place, we should not gain much if we did. We shouldlose a tremendous lot of our men, and the schooner would go off andfetch two or three more ships of war here, so that in the end theymust beat us. I think that there is no question that it will be betterfor us to take our chances of escape now. "

"Either the schooner will come back to-night and tow the boats of thefrigate round the other side of the island, or she will send a boatwith the news that she has found a landing-place, and then the frigatewill send all her boats. I don't think the attack will take placeto-night; but it may be made. It certainly won't if the schooner comesround, for the wind is very light. She will not leave her anchorageuntil it is quite dark; and by the time she has got round to thefrigate, and the boat's crews are ready to start, and they all get tothe back of the island, it will be morning. If they send a boat itwould reach the frigate after three hours' rowing; give them an hourto get ready and start, and three hours to row back, so that brings itto nearly the same thing. Beside, I don't suppose in any case theywould land before morning, for they would run the risk of losing theirway in the woods. So my proposal is that at about two o'clock in themorning we make a start, separate as soon as we get out of the harbor, and each shift for himself. The frigate will have more than half hercrew away, and being so short-handed will not be so smart with hersails, and will not be able to work half her guns; so that at theoutside two out of the three of us ought to get safely off. "

"But suppose that the schooner happens to be round here, and they makeup their minds to wait a day before attacking, we should have two ofthem after us then; and that schooner sails like a witch. "

"I have thought of that, " Captain Vipon said. "My idea is to put a manon the top of the cliff just above where the schooner is anchored. Ifshe is lying there he is to light a fire a short distance back fromthe edge of the cliff. There should be another man on the top of thehill. When he sees the fire he shall show a lantern three times. Wewill return the signal to let him know that we see it. If the schoonergoes away early in the evening the lookout is not to light the fireuntil he sees her returning, at whatever hour it may be. The moment wesee the light we will set sail. '

"But how about the two signallers?" one of the other captains said. "They would be left behind and might not get the chance of rejoiningus again. "

"I have thought of that too, " Captain Vipon, said. "I have an Englishlad on board whom I picked up in the channel. He is a smart lad, andhas been working as one of the crew. He would of course be glad tostay behind, because it will give him the chance of rejoining hisfriends. "

"That would do capitally. But how about the other man? You see, if heshowed himself he would be made prisoner and sent to England; if hedidn't show himself he might be on this island for years before he gota chance of joining a French ship. It would need a high bribe toinduce anybody to run such a risk as that. "

This was so evident that there was silence for two or three minutes, then Captain Vipon spoke again. "I have a man who would be more likelyto do it than any one else I think, because he has taken a strongfancy to this young English boy. He is a good hand, and I don't likelosing him; still the thing is so important that I should not hesitateat that. Still we must offer him something good to run the risk, orrather the certainty of imprisonment. I propose that his name shall beput down on the books of all three ships, so that if he ever gets backto France again he will have a fair certainty of a good lot of prizemoney, for it will be hard luck if two out of the three of us do notmanage to get back safely. " The other captains agreed to this. 

"He will be here in half an hour, " Captain Vipon said. "The men weresitting down to a meal when I came away, and I ordered them to maketheir way back as soon as they had done. If he refuses, the only otherway I can see will be for all the men to cast lots, when, of course, whoever stays would get his three shares as we agreed. "

Half an hour later the twenty men arrived from the other side of theisland. As soon as they came on board Captain Vipon called Jacquesinto the cabin and told him that it would be necessary to leave twomen behind, explaining the duties they would have to perform. 

"Now Jacques, " he said when he had finished, "I thought that perhapsyou would be more likely than any other man on board the three shipsto volunteer for this work. "

"I volunteer!" Jacques said in astonishment. "What should make youthink of such a thing, captain?"

"For this reason, Jacques: I have settled to leave the English ladhere as one of the signallers. Of course he will gladly undertake thejob, as it will enable him to join his friends when they land; and asyou like him and he likes you, he might be able to make things easyfor you. In the second place we have determined that the name ofwhoever stops shall be borne on the ship books of all three vessels tothe end of their cruise, so that there would be a good bit of moneycoming even if only one out of the three ships gets back, and enoughto set you up for life if all three get back safely. Of course you mayhave a spell of imprisonment; but it is likely that one at least ofthe ships may be caught going out to-night, and if it happened to beours you would get the prison without the prize-money. "

"That is so, " Jacques agreed. "If you give me half an hour to think itover I will give you an answer. It's come upon me sudden-like. I willtalk it over with the boy. I suppose I can tell him, captain?"

On regaining the deck Jacques looked about for Ralph. 

"Come and sit along with me out on the bowsprit, lad, I want to have aprivate talk with you. "

Somewhat surprised Ralph followed his friend out on to the bowsprit. 

"Now, boy, " he said, "I have got a bit of news to tell you that willbe pleasant to you. That's the first thing; and the next is, I wantyour advice. You are a sensible young chap, you are, although you arebut a lad, and I should like to know what you think about it. "

"Well, what's the good news, Jacques?"

"The good news is this; you are likely, before this time to-morrow, tobe with your friends. " Ralph gave such a start of delight that henearly slipped off the bowsprit. 

"How is that Jacques? It seems too good to be true. "

"This is the way of it, " Jacques said. "The three vessels are allgoing to cut and run to-night. That schooner of yours is round theother side of the island, and we want to be sure she is stoppingthere, then there will only be the frigate to deal with, and in theselight winds and dark nights we ought to be able to give her the slip;but the only way to be sure the schooner keeps the other side is towatch her. So one man is to be placed on the cliff above her, and attwo o'clock in the morning, if she is still there, he is to light afire well back from the cliff, so that the light will not be seen byher. Another man is to be on the top of the hill, where we weretogether with a lantern. You see, we can just see the top of the hillfrom here. When he sees the fire he is to show a light three times. Ifhe sees it answered here he will know it's all right, and his work isdone; if not, of course he shows the lights again until it's answered. Now, they are going to leave you as one of the two signallers, and ofcourse all you will have to do will be to wait for a bit, and thencome down and join your friends. "

"That is capital, " Ralph said. "Nothing could be better. Now, what isthe other matter that you want my advice about, Jacques?"

"Well, you see, it will be awkward for the other man, for he willeither have the choice of coming down and giving himself up and beingcarried off as a prisoner, or of stopping on this island perhaps foryears till a French ship happens to come along; for once off the Mariewill continue her cruise to the Indian seas, and the other two willmake straight for France. Of course there is another course whichmight be taken. A boat might be hidden away for him, and he might gofor a cruise on his own account and take the chance of being pickedup. 

"Well, they have offered to the man as stops to put his name down onthe books of all the three craft. That means, of course, that he willget a share in the prize-money of all three ships if they get back. That's a pretty good offer, you know. You see, a fellow on board mayget captured or killed in battle or wrecked, and in that case therewould not be a penny of prize-money. The man who stops here is sure ofprize-money if only one of the three craft get back to France. Now, they ask me if I will undertake it. I should be better off than theothers; because in the first place I shall have you to talk with tillI get to prison, and in the next place as I can talk English I can geton a good deal better in prison than other fellows would do. Now, what's your advice, lad?"

"I should say certainly accept the offer, Jacques. You see, I can tellthem all what a good friend you have been to me, and it maybe theywill let you go free; but even if they don't I could make it pleasantfor you with the men, and you may be sure that if they take you to anEnglish prison I will do all I can to get you out of it. You see, whenyou get back to France you would have really a good sum coming to youfrom these three ships. The two that have been out here have collecteda tremendous lot of valuable plunder, and the Bell Marie is likely toget quite as much if, as you say, she is going to spend two years outin the Indian seas. So I really think you would be wise to take theoffer. Another thing, if you like I will not show myself at all, butwill stop here with you, and we will take a boat together and make forsome port, where we can give out that we are shipwrecked sailors. "

"No, lad, that wouldn't do; though I thank you for your offer. Youmight get a ship back to England, but I should have very little chanceof getting one for France. "

"No; but we might get one together for America, and from there youmight get to France easily enough. "

Jacques thought for some minutes. "No, lad; I will give myself up withyou. We might get lost in a boat, seeing that neither of us know thegeography of these seas; we might get short of water, or caught in ahurricane. No, I will give myself up. I know the worst that way, anyhow. Another spell in an English prison; but from that I may eitherget exchanged, or escape, or the war come to an end. So that's thebest thing for me to do. "

CHAPTER VI. 

HOME AGAIN. 

Having decided to stay as one of the signallers, Jacques proceeded atonce to the captain's cabin. 

"I am glad you have decided so, Jacques. It would have been atroublesome business to cast lots, and some of the men might haveabsolutely refused doing so; so I am glad it's settled. I havearranged with the other captains that you shall have an advance oftwenty napoleons. You had best hide them about you; you may find themcome in useful. The boy is to have ten. Of course he is glad of thechance; but at the same time he is doing us good service, and he hasworked well since he came on board. It will help him to get a passagehome. "

"Thank you, captain. That twenty napoleons may help me to get out ofan English prison. I will manage a hiding place for them. And now Ithink, captain, we will be off at once--at least as soon as we havehad our dinner. It's a good long way across the island to where thatschooner was lying, and I shall have to choose a place for my fire sothat it can be seen from the top of the hill. "

At dinner Jacques told his comrades that he was going to remain behindand act as signalman for them. A good deal of regret was expressed byhis shipmates, many of whom came like himself from Dunkirk, and hadknown him from a boy. Before starting he went to the sailmaker and gothim to open the soles of his shoes; he then inserted ten napoleons ineach, and the sailmaker sewed them up again. Then making his clothesinto a kit and getting a couple of bottles of wine from the steward, he shook hands with his messmates, and was with Ralph rowed ashore. 

On landing they cut two sticks and hung their kits upon these, Ralphtaking charge of the lantern, while both were provided with tinder andsteel. 

They walked for half a mile together, and then Jacques said:

"Here our paths separate, lad; you can't miss your way to the top ofthe hill. I go almost the other way, for the schooner lies but a shortdistance from the end of the island. If I were you I should lie up fora sleep as soon as I get there. Remember you will not see my fire tilltwo o'clock. If you do not see it then you must keep watch tillmorning, for there's no saying when it may be lit. As soon as you seeit you show a light three times in the direction of the creek. If yousee it answered you will have nothing more to do; if not you must keepon showing the light till you do get an answer. In the morning youwait till the sun has been up an hour, then come to this spot and waitfor me. I shall start at daybreak, but I have a lot further to walkthan you have, so I shan't be there before you. If we find your peoplehaven't come into the harbor we will wait till they do so; then whenthey find that there is no one there we can show ourselves quietly;but if we got there first they might begin to shoot directly they sawus without stopping to ask any questions. "

Ralph made his way up to the top of the hill, threw himself down undersome trees near the summit, and was soon fast asleep. When he awoke itwas already dark. He lit his lantern, covered it up in his jacket, andtook his station at the highest point. He had plenty to think about. Another twelve hours and he would be with friends! He had no reason tocomplain of the treatment he had received on board the privateer, buthad he remained with her he might not have returned to France for acouple of years, and would then have had difficulty in crossing toEngland; beside, it was painful to him to be with men fighting againsthis country, and each prize taken instead of causing delight to him asto his comrades, would have been a source of pain. 

But most of all he thought of his mother, of how she must have grievedfor him as dead, and of the joy there would be at their reunion. Thehours therefore passed quickly, and he could scarcely believe it to betwo o'clock when he suddenly saw the light of a fire far way towardthe end of the island. A glance at the stars showed him that the timewas correct. He rose to his feet, and taking the lantern held italoft, then he lowered it behind a bush and twice raised it again. Heknew exactly the direction in which the harbor lay, and no sooner hadhe put down the lantern for the third time than three flashes of lightfollowed in close succession. 

He knew that everything would be prepared in the afternoon for thestart. Orders had been issued before he left that the oars of theboats were to be muffled, that the chains at the entrance of thechannel were to be removed, and the ships got in a position, withshortened cables, for a start. He could picture to himself, as hestood there gazing into the darkness, that the men would be already inthe boats awaiting his signal, and as soon as it was seen they wouldbegin to tow the vessels out of the harbor. 

During the daytime the frigate cruised backward and forward under easysail some two miles off the entrance; but the sailors believed that atnight she came very much closer to the shore, the lookout withnight-glasses having reported that she had been seen once or twicewithin a quarter of a mile of the entrance to the channel. 

Half an hour passed without any sign that the frigate was aware thatthe ships were leaving the harbor; then Ralph heard the sound of adistant musket-shot, followed by several others, and had no doubt thatone of the frigate's boats on watch near the channel had discoveredthem. 

A few minutes later there was a flash some distance out at sea, followed after an interval by the deep boom of a gun; then came abroadside, followed by a steady fire of heavy guns. These wereevidently fired on board the frigate, no answering sounds from theFrench ships meeting his ear. He could see by the direction of theflashes that the frigate was under way. The firing continued for twohours, becoming more and more distant, and then it ceased altogether. 

When the sun rose he saw the frigate some twenty miles away. There wasa smaller craft two or three miles further off, and two others werevisible ten or twelve miles further away to the west. Two of theprivateers had evidently made their escape, and the third seemed to beleaving her pursuer behind, for the wind was exceedingly light. Somemiles nearer to the island than the frigate a schooner was visible. She was heading for the two vessels that had gone toward the west, butas these were fully fifteen miles to windward her chance of overtakingthem appeared to be slight. Ralph waited an hour, and then proceededat a leisurely pace toward the spot where he was to meet Jacques. Hewas but five minutes at the spot agreed upon when he saw him comingthrough the trees. 

"I heard nothing of the landing-parties, " he said as the French sailorapproached. 

"The reason is not far to search for, " he replied. "They did not landat all, and I did not much expect that they would. The boats from thefrigate arrived a few minutes before I lighted my fire. I was lyingdown at the edge of the cliff, looking right down upon her deck. Theycame up in a body, rowing with muffled oars. I could just hear thesound of their talking when they came on deck. As soon as I had thefire fairly alight I saw your signal and then went back to watch them. Everything was quiet till I heard the boom of the first gun; then Iheard 'Silence!' ordered on the schooner. I suppose some one had saidthat he heard a gun, and other's didn't. Of course the sound did notcome to them under the shelter of the cliff as it did to me. Then camethe sound of another gun, and then three or four close together; thenorders were given sharply, the capstan was manned and the anchor runup, and they were not a minute getting her sails set. But under theshelter of the cliff there was not enough wind to fill them, and sothe boats were manned, and she went gliding away until I could nolonger make her out. They guessed, of course, that our craft weremaking off, and went to help the frigate. "

"They were too late to be of any use, Jacques. "

"Ah! you have seen them from the top of the hill. I did not think ofthat. What is the news?"

"The frigate was in chase of one of them. It was too far for me to seewhich. I should say he was two or three miles ahead, certainly wellout of gunshot, and as far as I could see during the hour I waswatching them, was increasing her lead. Unless the wind freshens Ithink she is safe. The other two were on the opposite tack, ten ortwelve miles away to the west. The schooner was heading after them, but was at least fifteen miles from them. "

"She is very fast in a light wind like this, they say. "

"Well, if she should catch them, they ought to be able to beat heroff, Jacques, as they are two to one. So far I think your chance ofgetting your three shares is a good one. "

"Maybe, lad. I have not had much luck so far. I began on the sea whenI was eleven. At twenty-one I had to go into the navy, and it wasseven years later when I got back to Dunkirk after that spell in theprison. I did not report myself, for I had no wish to do any moreman-of-wars' work; and now I have had six years privateers' work, andhave not made much by it. If I get back this time and get those threeshares I will buy a fine fishing smack for myself and a snug littlehouse on shore. There is some one I promised--if the voyage turned outwell--she should have a nice little house of her own, and she promisedto wait for me. After that, no more long voyages for me. I suppose wemay as well go down to the harbor now, lad. They are sure to come backsooner or later, whether they catch any of the privateers or not. "

"Oh, yes! we shall be all safe now. We will be on the beach when theycome in. When they see that we are alone and unarmed there's no chanceof their firing. We can go up occasionally to the cliffs and watch forthem. "

It was not until the following evening that the frigate was seenapproaching the island. 

"She will take another four or five hours to work in, " Jacques said, "and they are not likely to try to land till to-morrow morning. Alltheir boats and half their men are away in the schooner. I shouldthink she would be back to-morrow morning. Either she caught thembefore it got dark last night--which I don't think likely--or theywill have given her the slip in the night. In that case she might lookabout for another day and then make sail to rejoin. "

As Jacques predicted the schooner was seen by daylight eight or tenmiles away. 

"We may as well hoist a white flag, Jacques. The captain of thefrigate will be savage that all the privateers have escaped him, butit may put him into a good temper if he takes possession here beforethe schooner arrives. "

Ralph ran down to the storehouse, got hold of a sheet and an oar, anda white flag was soon hoisted on the top of the cliff. Five minuteslater two gigs were seen rowing off from the frigate. Ralph andJacques took their places on the battery. When the boats reached themouth of the narrow entrance the order was given for the men to lay ontheir oars. Ralph shouted at the top of his voice:

"You can come on, sir! We are the only two here!"

The order was given to row on, and Ralph and his companion at oncewent down to meet them at the end of the harbor. The captain himselfwas in the stern of his own gig, while a young lieutenant held thelines in the other boat. 

"Who are you? the captain asked, as he stepped ashore on the littlewharf. You are English by your speech. "

"I am English, sir. I was on board a fishing boat in the channel whenwe were run down by one of those privateers in the dark. I believe thefisherman with me was drowned, but I clung to the bobstay and was goton board. She was on her way out here and had no opportunity oflanding me. She only arrived here two days before you came up. "

"You are not a fisherman?" the captain said abruptly. 

"No, sir; my mother is living at Dover, and I was at school there. Ilost my father, who was an architect, some years ago. "

"And who is this who is with you?"

"He is a sailor in the brig I came out in, and has been extremely kindto me during the voyage, and kept the others from persecuting me. "

"How is it he is left behind?" the captain asked. 

"He was round the other side of the island watching the schooner, "Ralph replied, "and the others sailed away without him;" for Ralph hadagreed with Jacques that it was better to say nothing about thesignalling. 

"Have you done any fighting since you were on board the privateer?"the captain asked sternly. 

"No, sir. We have only exchanged shots with one ship since we sailed. She fired one broadside and the privateer drew off a good dealdamaged. Another was surprised by night, but I took no part in it. Idon't know what she was laden with or what was her name. "

"Well, lad, your story sounds truthful, and will, of course, beinquired into when we get to England. As to this man, he is of coursea prisoner. "

"I hope not, sir, " Ralph pleaded. "He has not been taken with arms inhis hands, and is, in fact, a castaway mariner. "

The captain's face relaxed into a smile. "I see you are a sort of sealawyer. Well, we shall see about it. What is there in thesestorehouses?"

"A quantity of things, sir. They took away a great many with them, butthere must be ten times as much left. I heard them say they had thecargoes of more than twenty ships here. "

"That is satisfactory at any rate, " the captain said. "Mr. Wylde, willyou just take a look round these storehouses and see what there isworth taking away. You had better take my boat's crew as well as yourown to help you to turn things over. Are you quite sure, lad, thatthere is no one beside yourselves on the island?"

"I can't say that, sir. The orders were for all hands to embark lastnight, and so far as I know none of them were left behind exceptJacques Clery. We have been here for two days now and have seen noone, so I do not think any one else can have been left. "

"How did you get on on board the brig?" the captain asked. "I supposeyou cannot speak French?"

"I couldn't speak any French when I first was got on board, sir, but Ipicked up a great deal on the voyage out. Jacques speaks English verywell. He was a prisoner in England for three years, and learned itthere, and it was that which caused him to speak to me directly he hadgot me on board, for no one else understood me. So he set to work atonce to help me in my French, so that I could get along. The captainwas very kind too. He said that as I had been picked up in that way heshould not treat me as a prisoner; but he expected me to make myselfuseful, and, of course, I did so. It was the only way of having acomfortable life. "

"Is this the only place the privateers had on shore here?" the captainasked, looking round. "I only see one or two huts. "

"The storekeepers lived in them, sir. They stopped behind to lookafter things when the privateers were away. The men slept on boardtheir vessels, only landing to disembark the cargoes they hadcaptured, and for a drunken spree when they first returned. I am surethey have no other place. "

"So your brig only arrived here four days ago? I was puzzled in themorning when I saw there were two brigs and a schooner when we hadonly expected one brig. Of course your arrival accounts for that. Whatwas her name, and how many guns and men did she carry?"

"She was La Belle Marie of Dunkirk, " Ralph replied. "She carriedfourteen guns, mostly eighteen-pounders, and a thirty-two-pounder on apivot. She had eighty hands at first, but eight of them went away inthe prize. "

"Do you know whether she has gone off straight for France or whethershe is going to remain here?"

"Prom what I gathered from the men, sir, I believe the other twoprivateers are going straight home. They loaded up from thestorehouses, taking, of course, the most valuable stuff. There was agreat deal of copper, but what the rest was I do not know. Our brigwas loaded up too, but I believe her intention was to transfer hercargo into the first prize she took and send it to France. I do notknow whether she was going to cruise about here for a time, but Ishould rather think that now that her consorts have gone and thisplace been discovered she will not stay here, for she never intendedto cruise in these waters long. I know that her destination was theIndian Ocean, and she intended to capture Indiamen on their way out orhome. "

"In that case our expedition has been more satisfactory than Iexpected, " the captain said. "We shall have discovered and destroyedtheir depot here, captured anyhow some valuable stuff, and caused thetwo privateers that we have been hunting for so long to leave theislands, to say nothing of this brig of yours, of which we had notheard. Well, Mr. Wylde, what is your report?"

"It will take a long time to go through the whole sir, but I shouldsay that we have taken a most valuable prize. Part of the goodsconsist of produce of these parts--puncheons of rum and hogsheads ofsugar in any number. Then I see they have left a good many tons ofcopper behind them; overlooked them, I suppose, in the hurry ofloading. A considerable portion of the stores consist of homeproduce--cottons, cloths, silks, furniture, musical instruments, mirrors, and, in fact, goods of all kinds. "

"That is most satisfactory, Mr. Wylde, and we sha'n't have had ourtrouble for nothing. Ah! here come the other boats. "

As he spoke the pinnaces, long-boats, and cutters of the two ships ofwar dashed into the harbor, and in a minute or two reached thelanding-place. 

"So they gave you the slip as well as me, Chambers?" Captain Wilsonsaid. 

"Confound them, yes. I was within about four miles of them at sunset, but they both gave me the slip in the dark. "

"Mine fairly outsailed me, " Captain Wilson said. "I am afraid we havemade rather a mess of the affair; though we acted for the best, and Idon't see how we could have done otherwise. However. I have learnedthat the brig and the schooner we have been chasing so long have madestraight for France, so that we shall have no more trouble with them. The other brig, which only arrived two days before we chased theothers in here, has, it is believed, also gone off. So we shan't havedone so badly; for we can report that we have found out and destroyedtheir nest here, and I fancy from what my lieutenant says we have madea very valuable capture, enough to give us all a round sum inprize-money. "

"That will be some consolation, " the other laughed; "but I would givemy share of it if I could but have come up with and engaged thoserascally craft I have been hunting all over the islands for these lasttwo years. Whom have we got here--two prisoners?"

"Well, I hardly know whether they can be called prisoners. One is anEnglish lad who was in a boat they run down in the channel, and who, Idare say, they were glad to get rid of. It seems that he is agentleman's son, and his story is clear enough. The other belongs tothe brig I chased, which it seems only arrived here two days ago. Theyoung fellow says that he has been particularly kind to him, and hasbegged me to regard him in the light of a castaway sailor, seeing thathe was found here unarmed and away from his ship. I think there issomething in his plea; and as there is no credit or glory to beobtained from handing over one prisoner, I consider that under thecircumstances we shall be justified in letting him go ashore quietlyand in saying nothing about it. At one time the man was a prisoner ofwar in England and has picked up our language, so I dare say he willbe able to manage to find his way home without difficulty. "

"What are you thinking of doing with all this stuff?" Captain Chambersasked, pointing to the storehouses. 

"I think we had better take it away with us. I don't like turning theAlert into a storeship; but it would be better to do that than to havethe expense of chartering two or three ships to come here to fetch itaway. Beside, if I did that, you would have to stop here until it isall carried away, and to burn the storehouses afterward. "

"Then by all means let us load up, " Captain Chambers said. "Icertainly have no wish to be kept here for six weeks or a couple ofmonths. I will go out and bring the Seagull in at once. "

"The sooner the better, Chambers. I will set a couple of boats at workat once to take soundings here and in the channel. If I can get theAlert in I will; it would save a lot of trouble and time. "

It was found that the channel and the harbor inside contained anabundance of water for the frigate. The width between the rocks was, however, only just sufficient to let her through; and, therefore, while the schooner sailed boldly in, the frigate was towed in by herboats. The next morning the work of shipping the contents of thestorehouses commenced, but so large was the quantity of goods storedup that it took six days of hard work before all was safely on board. The sailors, however, did not grudge the trouble, for they knew thatevery box and bale meant so much prize-money. 

"I hope we shall meet nothing we ought to chase on our way to PortRoyal, " Captain Wilson said, looking with some disgust at the twovessels. "It has brought the Alert nearly two feet lower in the water;while as to the Seagull she is laden down like a collier. "

"Yes, her wings are clipped for the present, " Captain Chambersreplied. "Of course those rascals carried off the pick of their bootywith them; but we may be well content with what they left behind. Itwill be the best haul that we have made for some years. As a rule, themost we have to hope for is the money fetched by the sale of anyprivateer we may catch, and they generally go for next to nothing. Iretract what I said--that I would give my share of the prize-money tocome up with the privateers. I certainly never calculated on such ahaul as this. I suppose they intend to have gone on storing away theirbooty till the war came to an end, and then to have chartered a dozenships to carry it away. "

Captain Wilson had introduced Ralph to the midshipmen, telling them hewould be in their mess till he reached port. He was soon at home amongthem, and his clothes were replaced by some they lent him. Jacquesmade himself equally at home among the crew. Captain Wilson hadintimated to the first lieutenant that the man was not to beconsidered as a prisoner, but as a castaway, picked up on the island;and from his cheery temper, his willingness to lend a hand and makehimself useful in any way, and his knowledge of their language, he wassoon a favorite with them. 

When all the goods were on board fire was applied to the storehousesand huts. The two vessels were then towed out of the harbor, andhoisting sail made for Port Royal. The winds were light, and it wassix days before they entered the harbor. A signal was at once hoistedfrom the flagship there for the captain to come on board. 

"I have no doubt he is in a towering rage at our appearance, " CaptainWilson said to the first lieutenant; "but I fancy he will change histone pretty quickly when he learns what we have got on board. Hisshare of the prize money will come to a pretty penny. "

The next morning a number of lighters came alongside the ships, andthe work of discharging the cargo commenced. After breakfast Ralph andJacques were rowed ashore. 

"You will want some money to pay for your passage, young gentleman. "Captain Wilson said to Ralph before leaving the ship. "I willauthorize you to tell an agent that I will be security for the paymentof your passage-money. "

"I am very much obliged to you, sir, " Ralph replied; "but I shall workmy way home if I can. I have learned to be pretty handy on board theprivateer, and I would as lief be working forward as dawdling aboutaft all the way home. Beside, I don't want to inconvenience my motherby her being called upon suddenly to pay thirty or forty poundsdirectly I get home. I have caused her trouble enough as it is. "

"That's, right, my lad, " the captain said. "I like your spirit. Haveyou money enough to pay for your hotel expenses while you are waitingfor a ship?"

"Yes, thank you, sir. The French captain said I had fairly earnedwages, and gave me ten napoleons when he started. "

"He must have been a good sort of fellow, " the captain said; "though Iwish we had caught him for all that. Well, good-by, and a pleasantvoyage home. "

Ralph put up at a quiet boarding-house, kept by a Mulatto woman. Heand Jacques got a fresh rig-out of clothes at once, and went down tothe port to inquire about ships. Ralph was greatly amused at theaspect of the streets crowded with chattering negroes and negresses, in gaudy colors. The outlay of a few pence purchased an almostunlimited supply of fruit, and Ralph and his companion sat down on alog of wood by the wharves and enjoyed a feast of pine apples, bananas, and custard apples. Then they set about their work. In anhour both were suited. Jacques Clery shipped as a foremast hand onboard an American trading schooner, which was about to return to NewYork; while Ralph obtained a berth before the mast in a fine bark thatwould sail for England in a few days. 

Next morning they said good-by to each other, for Jacques had to go onboard after breakfast. They made many promises to see each other againwhen the war came to an end. 

"I shall never forget your kindness, Jacques; and if I am still atDover when peace is proclaimed I will run over to Dunkirk by the veryfirst vessel that sails. "

"As for the kindness, it is nothing, " Jacques replied; "and besidethat, you saved my life from that snake. I dream sometimes of thebeast still. And it was really owing to you that I am here now, andthat I shall get a round sum coming to me when I return home. If ithadn't been for you I should not have been chosen to stop behind andget three shares instead of one of the prize money. And in the nextplace it is your doing that I am free to start at once, and to make myway back as soon as I can, instead of spending four or five years, itmay be, in an English prison. Why, my Louise will be ready to jump forjoy when she sees me arrive, instead of having to wait another twoyears for me, with the chance of my never coming back at all; and shewill hardly believe me when I tell her that I shall be able to affordto buy that fishing boat and set up in a house of our own at once; andshe will be most surprised of all when I tell her that it is all owingto an English boy I fished on board on a dark night in the channel. "

"Well, Jacques, we won't dispute as to which owes the other most. Anyhow, except for my mother, I am not sorry I have made the trip inthe Belle Maire. I have seen a lot of life, and have had a rareadventure; and I have learned so much of sailor's work, that if I amever driven to it I can work my way anywhere before the mast infuture. "

Ralph went on board his own ship as soon as he had seen Jacques off, and was soon hard at work assisting to hoist on board hogsheads ofsugar and other produce. He was startled by the sound of a heavy gun. It was answered presently by all the ships of war in the harbor and bythe forts on shore, and for five minutes the heavy cannonadecontinued. The captain, who had been on shore, crossed the gangway onto the ship as the crew were gazing in surprise at the cannonade, exchanging guesses as to its cause. 

"I have great news, lads, " he said. "Peace is proclaimed, and Napoleonhas surrendered, and is to be shut up in the Isle of Elba in theMediterranean. No more fear of privateers or French prisons. "

The crew burst into a hearty cheer. This was indeed surprising news. It was known that Wellington was gradually driving back the Frenchmarshals in the south of France, and that the allies were marchingtoward Paris. But Napoleon had been so long regarded as invincible, that no one had really believed that his downfall was imminent. 

Four days later the cargo was all on board, and the Fanny sailed forEngland. The voyage was accomplished without adventure. As soon as thevessel entered dock and the crew were discharged Ralph landed, andhaving purchased a suit of landsman clothes, presented his kit to alad of about his own age, who had been his special chum on board theFanny, and then made his way to the inn from which the coaches forDover started. Having secured a place for next day, dined, and ordereda bed, he passed the evening strolling about the streets of London, and next morning at six o'clock took his place on the coach. 

"Going back from school, I suppose, young gentleman?" amilitary-looking man seated next to him on the coach remarked as soonas they had left the streets behind them, and were rattling along theOld Kent Road. 

"No, I am not going home from school, " Ralph said with a smile. "Atleast not from the sort of school you mean; though I have beenlearning a good deal too. I arrived yesterday from the West Indies. "

"Indeed!" the gentleman said, scrutinizing him closely. "I see youlook sunburned and weather-beaten now that I look at you; but somehowI should not have put you down as a sailor. "

"Well, I am not exactly a sailor; though I may say I have worked asone before the mast both out and home. That was my first experience;and I suppose one takes longer than that to get the regular nauticalmanner. "

"Before the mast, were you? Then I suppose you have been getting intosome scrape at home, young sir, and run away; for, from yourappearance, you would hardly have been before the mast otherwise. Boysnever know what is good for them. But I suppose after your experienceyou will be inclined to put up with any disagreeables you may have athome rather than try running away again?"

"You are mistaken!" Ralph said with a laugh. "I did not run away. Iwas run away with!"

"Kidnapped!" the gentleman said in surprise. "I know that merchantmenhave often difficulty in getting hands owing to the need of men forthe navy, but I did not know that they had taken to press-gangs ontheir own account. "

"No, I don't know that they have come to that, " Ralph replied. "Thefact is, sir, I was out fishing a few miles off Dover, when the smackI was in was run down in the dark by a French privateer. I was hauledon board, and as she was bound for the West Indies I had to make thevoyage whether I liked it or not. "

"How long ago is it that you were run down?"

"About five months, " Ralph replied. 

"Why, you are not the son of Mrs. Conway of Dover, are you?"

"Yes, I am, sir. Do you know her, and can you tell me how she is?"Ralph asked eagerly. 

"I believe that she is well, although of course she must have sufferedvery greatly at your disappearance. I haven't the pleasure of knowingher personally, but several friends of mine are acquainted with her. Iheard the matter talked about at the time the boat was missing. Someportions of her were picked up by other fishing boats, and by theshattered state of some of the planks they said that she had been rundown; beside, there had been no wind about the time she disappeared, so that there was little doubt some vessel or other had cut her down. I happened to hear of it from Colonel Bryant, who is a friend of yourmother. "

"Yes, I know him, " Ralph put in. 

"I have heard Colonel Bryant say that she has not altogether abandonedhope, and still clings to the idea that you may have been run down bysome outward-bound ship and that you had been saved and carried away, and that she declares that she shall not give up all hope until ampletime has elapsed for a ship to make the voyage to India and return. "

"I am very glad of that, " Ralph said. "It has been a great trouble tome that she would be thinking all this time that I was dead. I shouldnot have minded having been carried away so much if I had had a chanceof writing to her to tell her about it; but I never did have a chance, for I came home by the very first ship that left Port Royal after Iarrived there. "

"But how did you get away from the French privateer--was shecaptured?"

"Well, it is rather a long story, sir, " Ralph said modestly. 

"All the better, " the gentleman replied. "We have got fourteen hoursjourney before us, and your story will help pass the time; so don'ttry to cut it short, but let me have it in full. " Ralph thereupon toldthe story, which lasted until the coach reached Tunbridge, where itstopped for the passengers to dine. 

"Well, that is an adventure worth going through, " the officer, who hadalready mentioned that his name was Major Barlow, said; "and it waswell for you, lad, that you possessed good spirits and courage. A manwho is cheerful and willing under difficulties will always make hisway in the world, while one who repines and kicks against his fateonly makes it harder for him. I have no doubt that if, instead oftaking matters coolly when you found yourself on board the privateeryou had fretted and grumbled, you would have been made a drudge andkicked and cuffed by everyone on board. You would not have had achance of landing at that island or of being chosen to make the signalwhen they went away, and you would now be leading the life of a dog onboard that brig. Cheerful and willing are two of the great watchwordsof success in life, and certainly you have found it so. "

It was eight o'clock when the coach rattled up the streets of Dover. Major Barlow had already offered Ralph to take him to Colonel Bryant'squarters, and to ask the colonel to go with him to call on Mrs. Conwayand prepare her for Ralph's coming. 

CHAPTER VII. 

A COMMISSION. 

Colonel Bryant was just rising from dinner at the mess when MajorBarlow and Ralph arrived at the barracks, and after congratulating thelad on his return he willingly agreed to accompany them to Mrs. Conway. A quarter of an hour's walk took them to her house. Ralphremained outside when the two officers entered. Colonel Bryant lost notime in opening the subject. 

"I have brought my friend Major Barlow to introduce to you, Mrs. Conway, because he has happened to hear some news that may, I think, bear upon the subject that you have most at heart. "

"Ralph!" Mrs. Conway exclaimed, clasping her hands. 

"We think it may refer to your son, Mrs. Conway, " Major Barlow said. "I have just returned from town, and happened to hear that a vesselhad been spoken with that reported having picked up a lad from a smackrun down in the channel some five months ago, which corresponds prettywell, I think, with the time your son was missing. "

"Just the time, " Mrs. Conway said. "Did they not say the name?"

"Well, yes. The name, as far as I heard it, for as I had not thepleasure of knowing you I was not of course so interested in thematter, was the same as yours. "

"I think that there is no doubt about it, Mrs. Conway, " Colonel Bryantsaid kindly. "I consider you may quite set your mind at ease, for Ihave no doubt whatever it is your son who has been picked up. " Mrs. Conway was so much overcome that she sank into a chair and sat for ashort time with her face in her hand, crying happy tears and thankingGod for his mercy. Then with a great effort she aroused herself. 

"You will excuse my emotion, gentlemen, and I am sure you canunderstand my feelings. I am thankful indeed for the news you havebrought me. I have never ceased for a moment to hope that my boy wouldbe restored to me; but the knowledge that it is so, and that God hasspared him to me, is for the moment overpowering. And where was theship met with, Major Barlow, and where was she bound for? How long doyou think it is likely to be before Ralph comes home?"

"Well, Mrs. Conway, " Major Barlow said, hesitating a little, "the shipwas bound for India; but I understood from what was said that thevessel, that is the vessel that brought the news, had also broughthome the lad who had been carried away. "

"Then, in that case, " Mrs. Conway cried, "he may be home in a day ortwo. Perhaps--perhaps--and she paused and looked from one to theother. 

"Perhaps he is here already, " Colonel Bryant said gently. "Yes, Mrs. Conway, if you feel equal to it you may see him at once. " No word wasneeded. Major Barlow opened the door, went through the hall, andcalled Ralph, and in another moment the lad was clasped in hismother's arms, and the two officers without another word went quietlyout and left them to themselves. It was some time before a coherentword could be spoken by mother or son, and it was not until they hadknelt down together and returned thanks to God for Ralph's restorationthat they were able to talk quietly of what had passed. Then Mrs. Conway poured out question after question, but Ralph refused to enterupon a narrative of his adventures. 

"It's a long story, mother, and will keep very well till to-morrow. Itis past nine o'clock now, and I am sure that you want a night's restafter this excitement; and after fourteen hours on a coach, I sha'n'tbe sorry to be in bed myself. Beside, I want you to tell me first howyou have been getting on while I have been away, and all the newsabout everyone; but even that will keep. I think, mother, a cup of teafirst and then bed will be best for us both. "

The next morning Ralph related all his adventures to his mother, whowas surprised indeed at his story. 

"I suppose poor old Joe was never heard of, mother?"

"No, Ralph. His son has been up here a good many times to inquire ifwe had any news of you. He has gone into another fishing boat now, andhis sister has gone out to service. Their mother died years ago, youknow. "

"I was afraid that he had gone straight down, mother. Nobody on boardthe brig heard any cry or shout for help. He must have been injured inthe collision. "

"I must write to-day to Mr. Penfold. He has written to me severaltimes, and has been most kind. He has all along said that he believedyou would turn up one of these days, for as the weather was fine andthe sea fairly calm when you were run down, the probabilities in favorof your being picked up were great, especially as you were such a goodswimmer. I am sure he will be delighted to hear of your return. "

"I hope he will not be wanting me to go straight off down thereagain, " Ralph said ruefully. "I was only back with you one day, mother, after my visit to them, and now I have been five months awayit will be very hard if I am to be dragged off again. "

"I am sure Mr. Penfold will not be so unreasonable as to want to takeyou away from me, " Mrs. Conway said. 

"And am I to go back to school again, mother?"

"Not now, certainly, Ralph. The holidays will be beginning in afortnight again; beside, you know, we were talking anyhow of yourleaving at the end of this half year. "

"That's right, mother. It's high time I was doing something formyself. Beside, after doing a man's work for the last five months Ishouldn't like to settle down to lessons again. "

"Well, we must think about it, Ralph, You know I consented greatlyagainst my will to your choosing the army for your profession, and Iam not going to draw back from that. You are just sixteen now, andalthough that is rather young I believe that a good many lads do gettheir commissions somewhere about that age. In one of his letters Mr. Penfold said that as soon as you came back he would take the matter inhand, and though I have good interest in other quarters and couldprobably manage it, Mr. Penfold has a great deal more than I have, andas he has expressed his willingness to arrange it I shall be gratefulto him for doing so. "

"That will be first rate, mother, " Ralph said in delight. "I thoughtin another year I might get my commission; but of course it would beever so much better to get it a year earlier. "

For the next few days Ralph was a hero among his boy friends, and hadto tell his story so often that at last he told his mother that if itwasn't for leaving her so soon he should be quite ready to go offagain for another visit to Mr. Penfold. 

"You won't be called upon to do that, " she said smiling; "for thisletter that I have just opened is from him, and he tells me he iscoming here at once to see you, for he thinks it would be too hard toask me to spare you again so soon. "

"You don't mean to say that he is coming all that way?" Ralph said insurprise. "Well, I am very glad. "

"He asks me in his letter, " Mrs. Conway said with a passing smile ofamusement, "if I can take in a young friend of his, Miss MabelWithers. He says she has never been from home before, and that itwould be a treat for her to get away and see a little of the world. Heis going to stop a few days in London, and show her the sights on hisway back. "

"That will be very jolly, mother. You know I told you what a nice sortof girl she was, and how well we got on together. I don't know how Ishould have got through my visit there if it hadn't been for her. Herfather and mother were very kind too, and I was often over at theirhouse. "

Mr. Penfold had not succeeded in inducing Mr. And Mrs. Withers toallow Mabel to accompany him without much argument. "You know what Ihave set my mind on, Mrs. Withers, " he said. "But of course such anidea doesn't enter the young people's heads, it would be veryundesirable that it should do. But now Ralph has returned he will bewanting to get his commission at once, and then he may be away onforeign service for years, and I do think it would be a good thing forthe young people to see as much of each other as possible before hegoes. If anything happens to me before he comes back, and you know howprobable it is that this will be the case, they would meet almost asstrangers, and I do want to see my pet scheme at least on the way tobe carried out before I go. It would be a treat for Mabel, and I amsure that Mrs. Conway will look after her well. "

"How long are you thinking of stopping there, Mr. Penfold?"

"Oh, ten days or a fortnight. I shall be a day or two in town as I gothrough, for I want to arrange about Ralph's commission. Then, perhaps, I shall persuade Mrs. Conway to come up with Ralph to townwith us, and to go about with the young people to see the sights. Now, if you and Mrs. Withers would join us there, that would complete myhappiness. "

The clergyman and his wife both said that this was impossible. But Mr. Penfold urged his request with so much earnestness, that at last theyagreed to come up to town and stay with him at a hotel. And, indeed, when they recovered from the first surprise at the proposal, both ofthem thought that the trip would be an extremely pleasant one; for inthose days it was quite an event in the lives of people residing at adistance from a town to pay a visit to the metropolis. 

"Then everything is arranged delightfully, " Mr. Penfold said. "Thiswill be a holiday indeed for me; and however much you may all enjoyyourselves I shall enjoy myself a great deal more. Now, I suppose Imay tell Mabel of our arrangement?"

"But you don't know that Mrs. Conway will take her in yet. Surely youare going to wait to hear from her?"

"Indeed I am not, Mrs. Withers. I am as impatient as a schoolboy to beoff. And I am perfectly certain that Mrs. Conway will be very glad toreceive her. She knows Mabel, for I have given her an idea of my fancyabout that matter; and of course she will be glad to learn somethingof your girl. "

"But she may not have a spare room, " Mrs. Withers urged feebly. 

"It is not likely, " Mr. Penfold said decisively; "and if there shouldbe any difficulty on that score it will be very easily managed, asRalph can give up his room to Mabel, and come and stay at the hotelwith me. "

Mr. Withers laughed. "I see that it is of no use raising objections, Penfold; you are armed at all points. I scarcely know you, and havecertainly never seen you possessed of such a spirit of determination. "

Mr. Penfold smiled. "It would have been better for me, perhaps, if Ihad always been so determined, Withers. At any rate I mean to have myown way in this matter. I have not had a real holiday for years. "

So Mr. Penfold had his own way, and carried off Mabel wild withdelight and excitement upon the day after he had received Mrs. Conway's letter. There was no shade of embarrassment in the meetingbetween Mrs. Conway and the man who had once been her lover. It waslike two old and dear friends who had long been separated and now cometogether again. Mr. Penfold's first words after introducing Mabel hadreference to Ralph. 

"Your boy has grown quite a man, Mary, in the last six months. Iscarcely recognized the bronzed young fellow who met vis at the coachoffice as the lad who was down with me in the summer. Don't you seethe change, Mabel?"

"Yes, he is quite different, " the girl said. "Why, the first time Isaw him he was as shy as shy could be. It was quite hard work gettingon with him. Now he seems quite a man. "

"Nothing like that yet, Mabel, " Ralph protested. 

"Not a man!" Mr. Penfold exclaimed. "What! after wandering about as apirate, capturing ships, and cutting men's throats for anything Iknow, and taking part in all sorts of atrocities? I think he'sentitled to think himself very much a man. "

Ralph laughed. 

"Not as bad as that, Mr. Penfold. They did take one ship, but I hadnothing to do with it; and there were no throats cut. I simply made avoyage out and back as a boy before the mast; and, as far as I harebeen concerned, the ship might have been a peaceful trader instead ofa French privateer. "

"Well, Mary, you have not changed much all these years, " Mr. Penfoldsaid turning to Mrs. Conway, while the two young people began to talkto each other. "I had thought you would be much more changed; but timehas treated you much more kindly than it has me. You are thirty-seven, if I remember right, and you don't look thirty. I am forty, and lookat the very least ten years older. "

Mrs. Conway did not contradict him, for she could not have done sowith truth. 

"You are changed, Herbert; a great deal changed, " she said sadly, "although I should have know you anywhere. You are so much thinnerthan when I saw you last; but your eyes have not changed, nor yoursmile. Of course your hair having got gray makes a difference, and--and--" and she stopped. 

"I am changed altogether, Mary. I was a headstrong, impetuous youngfellow then. I am a fragile and broken man now. But I am happy to meetyou again. Very happy in the thought that I can benefit your son. Ihave an interest in life now that I wanted before; and in spite of mybeing anxious about Ralph while he was away, have been happier for thelast six months than I have been for seventeen years past. " Mrs. Conway turned away to conceal the tears that stood in her eyes, and amoment later said:

"I am a most forgetful hostess, Mabel. I have not even asked you totake off your things. Please come along and let me show you your room. Supper will be ready in a minute or two, and here are we stopping andforgetting that you and Mr. Penfold must be almost famished. "

As soon as they had sat down to supper, Mr. Penfold said. "By the way, Ralph, I have a piece of news for you. We stopped a couple of days, you know, in town, and I saw my friend at the Horse Guards, and had achat about you. He seemed to think that you would be better if youwere a few months older; but as he acknowledged that many commissionshad been given to lads under sixteen, and as you had just arrived atthat age, and as I told him you have had no end of experience withpirates and buccaneers, and all that sort of thing, he was silenced, and your commission will appear in the next _Gazette_. "

"Oh, Mr. Penfold!" Ralph exclaimed as he leaped from his seat indelight. "I am obliged to you. That is glorious. I hardly even hoped Icould get a commission for some months to come. Don't look sad, mother, " he said, running round and kissing her. "I shan't be goingout of England yet, you know; and now the war is over you need have nofear of my getting killed, and a few months sooner or later cannotmake much difference. "

"I shall bear it in time, Ralph, " his mother said, trying to smilethrough her tears. "But it comes as a shock just at first. "

The sight of his mother's tears sobered Ralph for a time, and duringsupper the conversation was chiefly supported by Mr. Penfold, whojoked Ralph about his coming back in a few years a general withoutarms or legs; and was, indeed, so cheerful and lively that Mabel couldscarcely believe her ears, so wholly unlike was he to the quiet friendshe had known as long as she could remember. The next fortnight was adelightful one to Mabel, and indeed to all the party. Every day theywent driving-excursions through the country round. Ramsgate and Dealand Folkestone were visited, and they drove over to Canterbury andspent a night there visiting the grand cathedral and the old walls. 

The weather was too cold for the water, for Christmas was close athand; but everything that could be done was done to make the time passhappily. Mrs. Conway exerted herself to lay aside her regrets atRalph's approaching departure, and to enter into the happiness whichMr. Penfold so evidently felt. The day before their departure for townan official letter arrived for Ralph, announcing that he was gazettedinto his majesty's 28th Regiment of foot, and that he was in onemonth's date from that of his appointment to join his regiment atCork. 

"Now, Miss Mabel, " Mr. Penfold said gayly, after the first talk overthe commission was concluded, "you will have for the future to treatMr. Ralph Conway with the respect due to an officer in his majesty'sservice. "

"I don't see any change in him at present, " the girl said, examiningRalph gravely. 

The boy burst into a laugh. 

"Wait till you see him in uniform, Mabel, " Mr. Penfold went on. "I amafraid that respect is one of the moral qualities in which you aredeficient. Still I think that when you see Ralph in his uniform, youwill be struck with awe. "

"I don't think so, " Mabel said, shaking her head. "I don't think hewill frighten me, and I feel almost sure that he won't frighten theFrenchmen. "

"My dear child, " Mr. Penfold said gravely, "you don't know what Ralphis going to turn out yet. When you see him come back from the warsseven or eight inches taller than he is now, with great whiskers, andperhaps three or four ornamental scars on his face, you will be quiteshocked when you reflect that you once treated this warrior as aplayfellow. "

Upon the following day the party went up to London, and were joinednext morning by Mr. And Mrs. Withers. Mabel declared that she did notthink any people ever could have enjoyed themselves so much as theyall did. They went to Exeter 'Change to see the animals and to thetheater at Drury Lane, to the Tower and Ranelagh Gardens, toWestminster Abbey and St. Paul's, and they went down by coach toHampton Court and to Greenwich, and they saw his majesty the kingreview the Guards in Hyde Park. Altogether it was a gloriousfortnight. Mr. Penfold was the life and soul of the party, and had hehad his way they would have seen far more than they did. But Mr. AndMrs. Withers and Mrs. Conway all said that they wanted to enjoythemselves and not to be worn out, and several times they stayed athome when Mr. Penfold and the two young people went to see sights, orto wander about the streets and look at the shops, which was as greata treat as any thing. Mr. Penfold went with Ralph to a military tailorand ordered his outfit, and to other shops, where he purchased such astock of other garments that Mrs. Conway declared Ralph would requirenothing for years. On the last day of the fortnight the uniforms andtrunks and clothes all arrived at the hotel, and of course Ralph hadto dress up and buckle on his sword for the first time. Mrs. Conwayshed a few tears, and would have shed more had not Mr. Penfold madeevery one laugh so; and Mabel was seized with a fit of shyness for thefirst time in her life when Mr. Penfold insisted that the ladiesshould all kiss the young officer in honor of the occasion. And thenext morning the whole party went down to the wharf below LondonBridge to see Ralph on board the packet for Cork. Before leaving thehotel Mr. Penfold slipped an envelope with ten crisp five pound notesin it into Ralph's hand. 

"I have paid in, my boy, two hundred pounds to the regimental agents, and in future shall make you an allowance of the same amount everyyear. You will see what other officers spend. My advice to you is: donot spend more than others, and do not spend less. Money will keepvery well, you know, and a little reserve may always come in useful. When you once go on foreign service you will not find much occasionfor money. I want you just to hold your own with others. I considerthat it is quite as unfortunate for a young man to spend more thanthose around him as it is for him to be unable to spend as much. No, Idon't want any thanks at all. I told your mother I should look afteryou, and I am going to, and it has given a vast pleasure to me to havesuch an interest. Write to me occasionally, my boy; your letters willgive me great pleasure. And should you get into any scrape, tell mefrankly all about it. "

The evening before Mrs. Conway had had a long talk with Ralph. "I donot think I need to give you much advice, my boy. You have alreadybeen out in the world on your own account, and have shown that you canmake your way. You are going into a life, Ralph, that has manytemptations. Do not give way to them, my boy. Above all, set your faceagainst what is the curse of our times: over-indulgence in wine. It isthe ruin of thousands. Do not think it is manly to be vicious becauseyou see others are. Always live, if you can, so that if you kept atrue diary you could hand it to me to read without a blush on yourcheek; and always bear in mind, that though I shall not be there tosee you, a higher and purer eye will be upon you. You will try; won'tyou, Ralph?"

"I will indeed, mother. "

Mr. Penfold did his best to keep up the spirits of all of the partywhen they parted on board the packet; but Mrs. Conway quite broke downat last. Mabel cried unrestrainedly, and his own eyes had a suspiciousmoisture in them as he shook hands with Ralph. Fortunately they hadarrived a little late at the wharf, and the partings were consequentlycut short. The bell rang, and all the visitors were hurried ashore;then the hawsers were thrown off and the sails hoisted. As long as theparty remained in sight Ralph stood on the stern waving hishandkerchief to them; then, having removed the traces of tears fromhis cheeks, he turned to look at what was going on around him. 

The packet was a brig of about two hundred tons, and she carried abouttwenty passengers, of whom fully half Ralph judged by their appearanceto be military men. Before they had reached the mouth of the river hefound that one among them Captain O'Connor, belonged to his ownregiment, as did another young fellow about his own age namedStapleton, who had been gazetted on the same day as himself. CaptainO'Connor, who was a cheery Irishman, full of life and spirits, at oncetook Ralph in hand, and was not long in drawing from him the story ofhis adventures with the privateers. 

"You will do, my lad. I can see you have got the roughness rubbed offyou already, and will get on capitally with the regiment. I can't sayas much for that young fellow Stapleton. He seems to be completelypuffed up with the sense of his own importance, and to be an unlickedsort of cub altogether. However, I have known more unlikely subjectsthan he is turn out decent fellows after a course of instruction fromthe boys; but he will have rather a rough time of it at first Iexpect. You will be doing him a kindness if you take an opportunity totell him that a newly-joined ensign is not regarded in the same lightas a commander-in-chief. It is like a new boy going to school, youknow. If fellows find out he is a decent sort of boy, they soon lethim alone; but if he is an ass, especially a conceited ass, he hasrather a rough time of it. As you are in the same cabin with him, andhave had the advantage of having knocked about the world a bit, youmight gently hint this to him. "

"I have been chatting with him a bit, " Ralph said. "He has never beento school, but has been brought up at home, and I think from what hesaid he is the heir to an estate. He seemed rather to look down uponschools. "

"So much the worse for him, " Captain O'Connor said. "There is nothinglike a school for bringing a fellow to his level, unless it is aregiment; and the earlier in life the process takes place the lesspainful it is. "

"I don't think he will turn out a bad sort of fellow, " Ralph said. "Heis, as you say, rather an ass at present. I will do what I can to givehim a hint; but as I should say he is at least a year older than I am, I do not suppose it will be of much use. "

The voyage was a pleasant one, and Ralph was quite sorry when theyentered the Cove of Cork and dropped anchor. The next morning the shipsailed up the river, and the following day the party disembarked. Captain O'Connor's servant came on board as soon as the vessel reachedthe quay, and his master charged him to pick out his luggage and thatof the two young officers; he then at once proceeded with them to thebarracks. Ralph felt extremely pleased that Captain O'Connor was withthem, as he felt none of the shyness and unpleasantness he wouldotherwise have experienced in joining a set of entire strangers. 

Captain O'Connor was evidently a favorite in the regiment, for hisarrival was heartily greeted. He at once introduced the two lads totheir future comrades, took them to the colonel, looked after theirquarters, and made them at home. In their absence he spoke warmly infavor of Ralph. "You will find Conway a first-rate young fellow. Hehas seen something of the world, has been carried out to the WestIndies by a French privateersman, and has gone through a lot ofadventures. He is a bright, pleasant, good-tempered fellow. The otheris as green as grass, and has never been away from his mother'sapron-string. However, I do not think you will find him a bad sort offellow when he has got rid of his rawness. Don't be too hard upon him, you boys. Remember easy does it, and don't be pushing your jokes toofar. He is not a fool and will come round in time. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

STARTLING NEWS. 

Three weeks after Ralph's departure to join his regiment Mrs. Conwayreceived a letter which gave her a great shook. It was from Mrs. Withers, and was as follows:

 "MY DEAR MRS. CONWAY: I have very sad news to tell you. An event has happened which will, I know, be as afflicting to you as it has been to us. Our dear friend Mr. Penfold, who but three weeks ago was so bright and happy with us in London, has passed away suddenly. Up to the day before yesterday he seemed in his usual health; but yesterday morning he did not appear at breakfast, and the servant on going up to his room, found him sitting in a chair by his bedside dead. The bed had not been slept in, and it appears as if before commencing to undress he had been seized with a sudden faintness and had sunk into the chair and died without being able to summon assistance. 

 "His death is a terrible shock to us, as it will be to you. My husband and myself have long been aware that our dear friend suffered from disease of the heart, and that the doctor he consulted in London had told him that his death might take place at any moment. At the same time, he had been so bright and cheerful in London, as indeed with us he was at all times, that his death comes almost with as great a surprise to us as if we had not known that he was in danger. Mr. Tallboys, the solicitor of Weymouth who managed Mr. Penfold's affairs, called here last night. The funeral is to take place on Thursday, and had Ralph been in England he said that he should have written to him to come down to it, which he could have done in time had he started immediately he received the letter announcing the event; but as he is over in Ireland, of course nothing can be done. 

 "He said that had Ralph come he should have suggested that you also should be present at the reading of the will, but that as matters stand he did not think there was any occasion to trouble you. I should tell you that Mr. Tallboys appeared a good deal worried, and one of his reasons for calling was to ask my husband whether he knew where Mr. Penfold was in the habit of keeping his papers. It seems that upon the day after his return from London Mr. Penfold called upon him and took away his will, saying that he wanted to look over it, as he had two or three slight alterations that he wanted to make, and he would bring it back in the course of a day or two and get him to make the changes required. From that time Mr. Penfold had not been in Weymouth, and, indeed, had scarcely left the house except to come down here; for, as he said to my husband, he did not feel quite himself, and supposed it was a reaction after his late dissipations. 

 "Mr. Tallboys, who is one of the executors named in the will, had searched for it in the afternoon among Mr. Penfold's papers; but found that it and several other documents--leases and so on--of importance were all missing. He had asked Miss Penfold if she knew where her brother was in the habit of keeping important papers; but she replied shortly that she knew nothing whatever of her brother's business matters. He had, therefore, driven over to ask my husband, knowing how intimate he had been with poor Herbert. He knew, it seems, that Mr. Penfold had some secure place for such papers, because he had one day spoken to him upon the subject, saying it would be more prudent for him to leave the leases in the strong-box in his office at Weymouth. But Herbert replied that they were stowed away in a far safer place, and that he had not the least fear in the world of their being stolen. 

 "Now, this is just what my husband knew also. Once when they were chatting together Herbert mentioned that the house like many other old mansions contained a secret chamber. He said: 'I can't tell you where it is, Withers; for although it is never likely to be used again, the knowledge of this hiding-place has been passed down from generation to generation as a family secret. I gave a solemn promise never to reveal it when I was first informed of its existence; and although in these days there is no occasion to hide priests or conspirators, I do not consider myself released from the promise I gave. Possibly some day the hiding-place may prove of value again. There may be a price set on the head of a Penfold, who can tell? Anyhow it is likely to remain a secret as long as the old house stands; and in the meantime I find it a useful place for keeping things that I do not want lying about. ' Mr. Tallboys appeared very vexed at hearing what my husband said. 

 "'It is very strange. ' he said, 'that sensible men will do such foolish things. It is probable enough that Herbert Penfold has placed this will in the hiding-place you speak of, and in that case I foresee that we shall have no end of trouble. I know you are both aware of the nature of Mr. Penfold's will, and you may be sure that if those sisters of his also know of it--whether they do or not I can't say--they will bitterly resent it. I know enough of the family history to know that. It was evident by Miss Penfold's answer to me to-day that either she does not know the secret of this hiding-place--which is of course possible--or that if she does know she does not mean to say. I should imagine myself that she does know. 

 "'Had Herbert Penfold been of age when his father died it is likely enough that he only as head of the family would have been told by his father of its existence; but you see he was but a lad at that time, while the Miss Penfolds were women, and were therefore probably informed of the secret. It is very awkward, extremely awkward. Of course the will may turn up between this and the funeral; but if not I hardly know what steps had best be taken. If those Penfold women have made up their minds that this will shall not see the light they are likely to carry it through to the end. My husband quite agreed with Mr. Tallboys about that, and so do I. I have never been able to abide them, though, as my husband says, they are good women in many respects, and always ready to help in parish matters. Still I can't abide them, nor I am sure have you any reason to do so; for when I and my husband first came here we learned a good deal of the part they had played in a certain matter, and that of course set me altogether against them. 

 "Of course, my dear Mrs. Conway, I do not wish to alarm you about the will; still you ought to know how things stand, and my husband this morning asked me to tell you all there was to tell. I hope in a few days to be able to write and give you better news. Things may not be as they fear. "

Mrs. Conway sat for a long time with this letter before her. She hadnot read it straight through, but after glancing at the first fewlines that told of the death of Herbert Penfold she had laid it aside, and it was a long time before she took it up again. He had been thelove of her youth; and although he had seemingly gone for so manyyears out of her life, she knew that when she had found how he had allthis time watched over her and so delicately aided her, and that forher sake he was going to make Ralph his heir, her old feeling had beenrevived. Not that she had any thought that the past would ever return. His letters indeed had shown that he regarded his life as approachingits end; but since the receipt of that letter she had always thoughtof him with a tender affection as one who might have been her husbandhad not either evil fate or malice stepped in to prevent it. 

The fortnight they had spent in London had brought them very closetogether. He had assumed the footing of a brother, but she had feltthat pleasant and kind as he was to all the rest of the party it wasfor her sake alone that this festivity had been arranged. They had hadbut one talk together alone, and she had then said that she hoped theexpressions he had used in his letter to her with reference to hishealth were not altogether justified, for he seemed so bright andwell. He had shaken his head quietly and said:

"It is just as well that you should know, Mary. I have seen myphysician since I came up to town, and I don't think it will last muchlonger. A little time ago I did not wish it to last, now I should beglad to go on until I can see my little scheme realized; but I amquite sure that it is not to be. Anyhow I am ready to go when I amsummoned, and am happy in the thought that the few people I care forare all in a fair way to be happy. Don't cry, dear. I don't want asingle cloud to hang over our memories of this time. I am happier thanI have ever been in my life, and I want you and all of them to be veryhappy too. I have set my mind upon that, and if I see a cloud on yourface it will spoil it all. "

Still in spite of this she had hoped the doctor might have taken toogloomy a view of the case, and that Herbert Penfold's death might yetbe a distant event. 

And now it was all over. Herbert Penfold was dead. The heart that hadbeat so kindly for her was silenced forever. It was then a long timebefore Mrs. Conway recovered sufficiently from her emotion to take upthe letter again. She did so with an air almost of indifference. Shehad learned the news, and doubtless all this long epistle containedmany details of comparatively little interest. But as she read her airof languid grief gave way to an expression of keen interest, and sheskimmed through the last page or two with anxious haste. Then shereread it more slowly and carefully, and then throwing it on the tablestood up and walked up and down the little room. 

So these women, who had as she believed ruined her life and Herbert's, were now going to attack her son and rob him of his rights. Theyshould not do it if she could help it. Never! Mary Vernon had been ahigh-spirited girl, and, although those who had only known her throughher widowhood would have taken her for a gentle and quiet woman, whosethoughts were entirely wrapped up in her boy, the old spirit was aliveyet, as with head thrown back, and an angry flush on her cheeks, shedeclared to herself that she would defend Ralph's rights to the last. How or in what manner she did not ask; she only knew that those whowould defraud him were her old enemies. 

Had it been otherwise the fact that they were Herbert's sisters wouldhave softened her toward them; now that fact only added to thehostility she bore them. They, his nearest relations of blood, hadruined his life; now they would defeat his dying wishes. It should notbe if she could help it. She would fight against it to the last day ofher life. There was of course nothing to be done yet. Nothing untilshe heard again. Nothing until she knew that the discovery of the willwas given up as hopeless. Then it would be time for her to dosomething. 

The thought barely occurred to her that the loss of this will mightmake material difference in her own circumstances, and that theallowance Herbert Penfold had made her, and which he had doubtlessintended she should continue to receive, would cease. That was sosecondary a consideration that it at present gave her no trouble. Itwas of Ralph she thought. Of Ralph and Herbert. Were the plans thatthe latter had made--the plans that had given happiness to the lastyear of the life of him who had known so little happiness--to beshattered? This to her mind was even more than the loss that Ralphwould suffer. 

"They may have destroyed the will, " she said at last; "but if not Iwill find it, if it takes me all my life to do so. "

A week later two letters arrived. The one was from Mrs. Withers. Thewill had not been found. Mr. Tallboys had searched in vain. Everycabinet and drawer in the house had been ransacked. No signs whateverhad been found of the will. 

"Mr. Tallboys is perfectly convinced that it must be hidden in somealtogether exceptional place. The will was not a bulky document, andmight have been stowed away in a comparatively small hiding-place, such as a secret drawer in a cabinet; but the leases that are alsomissing are bulky, and would take up so large a space that he isconvinced that had a secret hiding-place sufficiently large to holdthem existed in any of the articles of furniture he has searched heshould have discovered it. 

"Of course, my dear Mrs. Conway, we feel this matter personally, asour Mabel was as you know made joint-heiress with your Ralph ofHerbert's property. We cannot but feel, however, that the loss isgreater in your case than in ours. Mabel was never informed ofHerbert's intentions toward her, and although we should of course havebeen glad to know that our child had such brilliant prospects, theloss of them will not we may hope in any way affect her happiness. Inthe case of your son it is different, and his prospects in life willof course be seriously affected by the loss, and my husband begs me toexpress to you his very deep regret at this. 

"We have talked over your letter together, and while fully sharingyour indignation at the conduct of the Misses Penfold, hardly see thatanything can be done to discover the will. However, should you be ableto point out any manner in which a search for it can be carried on, weshall be happy to do what we can to aid in the matter, as it isclearly our duty to endeavor to obtain for Mabel the fortune HerbertPenfold willed to her. Mr. Tallboys tells us that it is clear theMisses Penfold have quite determined upon their line of conduct. Whatever they may know they have declined altogether to aid him inhis search for the will, Miss Penfold saying, in reply to his requestthat they would do so, that they had every reason to believe from whattheir brother had let fall that the will was an unjust and iniquitousone; that if Providence intended it should see the light it would seeit; but they at least would do nothing in the matter. 

"He asked them plainly if they were aware of the existence of anyplace in which it was likely that their brother had placed it. To thisMiss Penfold, who is, as she has always been, the spokesman of the twosisters, said shortly, that she had never seen the will, that shedidn't want to see it, and that she did not know where her brother hadplaced it; indeed, for aught she knew, he might have torn it up. As tohiding-places, she knew of no hiding-place whose existence she could, in accordance with the dictates of her conscience divulge. So that iswhere we are at present, Mrs. Conway. I believe that Mr. Tallboys isgoing to try and get a copy of the will that he has in his possessionadmitted under the circumstances as proof of Herbert Penfold'sintentions. But he owned to us that he thought it was very doubtfulwhether he should be able to do so, especially as Herbert had statedto him that he intended to make alterations; and it would be quitepossible that a court might take the view that in the first place thealterations might have been so extensive as to affect the wholepurport of the will, and in the second place that he might have cometo the conclusion that it would be easier to make the whole willafresh, and so had destroyed the one he had by him. "

Mrs. Conway laid down the letter, and after thinking for a time openedthe other, which was in a handwriting unknown to her. It began:

 "DEAR MADAM. : Mrs. Withers tells me that she has informed you of the singular disappearance of the will of my late client, Mr. Herbert Penfold. I beg to inform you that we shall not let this matter rest, but shall apply to the court to allow the copy of the will to be put in for probate; if that is refused, for authorization to make a closer search of the Hall than we have hitherto been able to do, supporting our demand with affidavits made by the Rev. Mr. Withers and ourselves of our knowledge that, the late Mr. Penfold was accustomed to keep documents in some secret receptacle. In the second place, we are glad to inform you that the annual sum paid by us into the Kentish bank to your credit will not be affected by the loss of the will; for at the time when that payment first commenced, Mr. Penfold signed a deed making this payment a first charge on the rents of two of his farms during your lifetime. This assignment was of a binding character, and of course continues to hold good. We shall consider it our duty to acquaint you from time to time with the course of proceedings in the matter of the late Mr. Penfold's will. "

Little as Mrs. Conway had thought of herself from the time when shefirst heard that the will was missing, the news that her income wouldremain unchanged delighted her. She had formed no plans for herself, but had vaguely contemplated the necessity of giving up her house assoon as it was decided that the will could not be found, selling herfurniture, and for the present taking a small lodging. She was gladthat there would be no occasion for this; but very much more glad thatshe should be able now to make Ralph an allowance of seventy or eightypounds a year, which would make all the difference between his livingcomfortably and being obliged to pinch himself in every way to subsistupon his pay. It would also enable her to carry out without difficultyany plans she might determine upon. 

Upon the receipt of the letter announcing Mr. Penfold's death, she hadwritten to Ralph telling him of it, but saying nothing about Mr. Tallboys' visit to the Withers, or his report that he was unable tofind the will. She now wrote to him relating the whole circumstances. He had not previously known Mr. Penfold's intention to make him hisheir, being only told that he intended to push his way in life, andhad considered that the promise was carried out by his obtaining him acommission and arranging some allowance. His mother was glad of thisnow. 

"Of course the loss of Mr. Penfold's will, my boy, will make adifference to you, as there can be no doubt that he had made someprovisions in it for the regular payment of the allowance he had sokindly promised you. This, unless the will is found, you will ofcourse lose. Having been a soldier's daughter, I know that to livecomfortably in the army it is necessary to have something beyond yourpay; but fortunately I can assist you a little. I have now one less tofeed and clothe, and no schooling expenses; and I have beencalculating things up, and find that I can allow you seventy-fivepounds a year without making any difference in the manner of myliving. You will be able to see that for yourself. You need, therefore, feel no hesitation in accepting this allowance. "

"It is not a large one; but I know it will make a very greatdifference in your comfort, and it will be a great pleasure to me toknow that you will be able to enter into what amusements are going onand not to look at every penny. It makes all the difference in theworld whether one has four and sixpence or nine shillings a day tolive upon. You wrote and told me of the handsome present Mr. Penfoldmade you at parting. This, my boy, I should keep if I were you as areserve, only to be touched in case of unexpected difficulties orneeds. No one can ever say when such needs may occur. I hope you willnot pain me by writing to say you don't want this allowance, becausenothing you can say will alter my determination to pay that allowanceregularly every quarter into your agent's hands; and it will be, ofcourse, very much more pleasant to me to know that it is as much apleasure to you to be helped by me as it is to me to help you, I haveheard several times from Mrs. Withers; they are all well, and sheasked me to send their remembrances to you when I write. I do not giveup all hope that the will may be found one of these days, but it isjust as well that we should not build in the slightest upon it. "

Ralph's reply came in due time, that is in about a fortnightafterward; for Mrs. Conway's letter had first to go by coach toLondon, and then a two days' journey by the mail to Liverpool, then bythe sailing packet across to Dublin, and then down to Cork by coach. He had already written expressing his regret at the news of Mr. Penfold's death. 

"My dear mother, " he began. "It is awfully good of you to talk aboutmaking an allowance to me. After what you say, of course I cannotthink of refusing it, though I would do so if I thought the paymentwould in the slightest way inconvenience you. But as you say that nowI am away it will make something like that sum difference in yourexpenses, I must of course let you do as you like, and can only thankyou very heartily for it. But I could really have got on very wellwithout it. I fancy that a good many men in the regiment have nothingbut their pay, and as they manage very well there is no reason I couldnot manage too. 

"Of course in war times things are not kept up so expensively as theywere before, and lots of men get commissions who would not have doneso when the army was only half its present size, and was considered asa gentlemanly profession instead of a real fighting machine. However, as you say, it is a great deal more pleasant having nine shilling aday to live on instead of four and sixpence. 

"I am getting on capitally here. Of course there is a lot of drill, and it is as much as I can do not to laugh sometimes, the sergeant, who is a fierce little man, gets into such wild rages over ourblunders. 

"I say our blunders, for of course Stapleton and I are drilled withthe recruits. However, I think that in another week I shall be overthat, and shall then begin to learn my work as an officer. They are ajolly set of fellows here, always up to some fun or other. I alwaysthought when fellows got to be men they were rather serious, but itseems to me that there is ever so much more fun here among them thanthere was at school. Of course newcomers get worried a little just asthey do at school. I got off very well; because, you see, what withschool and the privateer I have learned to take things goodtemperedly, and when fellows see that you are as ready for fun as theyare they soon give up bothering you. 

"Stapleton has had a lot more trouble; because, you see, he will lookat things seriously. I think he is getting a little better now; but heused to get quite mad at first, and of course that made fellows everso much worse. He would find his door screwed up when he went backafter mess; and as soon as they found that he was awfully particularabout his boots, they filled them all full of water one night. Thensome one got a ladder and threw a lot of crackers into his bedroom inthe middle of the night, and Stapleton came rushing down in hisnight-shirt with his sword drawn, swearing he would kill somebody. 

"Of course I have done all I can to get them to leave him alone, forhe is really a good fellow, and explained to them that he had neverbeen to school, or had a chance of learning to keep his temper. But heis getting on now, and will, I think, soon be left alone. This hasbeen an awfully long letter, and there is only just enough candle leftfor me to get into bed by. Anyhow mother, I am not a bit upset aboutlosing Mr. Penfold's allowance; so don't you worry yourself at allabout that. "

Some weeks passed on. Mr. Tallboys wrote that he had failed to inducethe court to accept the copy of the will, the admission he was forcedto make that Mr. Penfold had intended to make an alteration in itbeing fatal. He had, however, obtained an order authorizing himthoroughly to search the house, and to take down any wainscotting, andto pull up any floors that might appear likely to conceal ahiding-place. A fortnight later he wrote again to announce hisfailure. 

"The Miss Penfolds, " he said, "were so indignant that they left thehouse altogether, and you may believe that we ransacked it from top tobottom. I had four carpenters and two masons with me, and I think wetapped every square foot of wall in the house, took down thewainscotting wherever there was the slightest hollow sound, liftedlots of the flooring, and even wrenched up several of thehearthstones, but could find nothing whatever, except that there was astaircase leading from behind the wainscotting in Mr. Penfold's roomto a door covered with ivy, and concealed from view by bushes to theleft of the house; but the ivy had evidently been undisturbed forfifty years or so, this passage, even if known to Mr. Penfold, hadcertainly not been used in his time. 

"I truly regret, my dear madam, that the search should have been sounsuccessful, and can only say, that all that could be done has beendone. That the will is concealed somewhere I have not a shadow ofdoubt, unless, of course, it has been torn up before this. As to thatI give no opinion; and, indeed, as it is a matter in which women areconcerned, your judgment as to the probabilities is much more likelyto be correct than mine. As I expected, my business connection withthe family has come to an end. The Miss Penfolds have appointedanother agent, who has written to me requesting me to hand over allpapers connected with the property. This, of course, I shall do. Ineed hardly say that in no case could I have consented to act forthose whom I consider to be unlawful possessors of the property. Inconclusion, I can only say that my services will at all times be atyour disposal. "

Mrs. Conway was scarcely disappointed at the receipt of this letter, for she had quite made up her mind that the will would not be found. These women had clearly made up their minds to deprive Ralph and Mabelof their rights, and unless they had felt perfectly satisfied that nosearch would discover the hiding-place of the will, they would notimprobably have taken it, and either destroyed it or concealed it insome fresh place where the searchers would never be likely to look forit. She did not think it likely, therefore, that the hiding-placewould be discovered, and she felt assured that were it discovered itwould be found empty. 

"Very well, " she said, in a quiet, determined voice, as she laid downthe letter. "Mr. Tallboys has failed. Now, I shall take up the matter. I dare say you think that you have won, Miss Penfold; that you are nowmistress beyond dispute of Herbert's property. You will see the battlehas only just begun. It will last, I can tell you, all your lives ormine. "

A week later an altogether unexpected event took place. When Mr. AndMrs. Withers were at breakfast a letter arrived from Mr. Littleton, now solicitor to the Miss Penfolds. Upon opening it it was found tocontain an offer upon the part of the Miss Penfolds to settle the sumof a hundred a year for life upon Mabel, upon the condition only thatthe allowance would be stopped upon her marriage, unless that marriagereceived the approval, in writing, of the Miss Penfolds. The letterwas addressed to Mr. Withers, and after reading it through he passedit to his wife without a word. She was too surprised to say anythingfor a moment, especially as Mabel was in the room, and she laid theletter beside her until breakfast was over and Mabel had gone out. 

"Well, James, what do you think of it?" she asked. 

"What do you think of it yourself?" he replied. 

Mrs. Withers hesitated, and then said: "Well, James, it is a sort ofthing that requires so much thinking about that I have scarcely hadtime to turn it over in my mind yet, especially with Mabel thereeating her breakfast opposite, and having no idea that this lettercontained anything of such importance to her. I would really ratherhear what you think about it. " Mr. Withers remained silent, and shewent on: "Of course it would be a very nice thing for Mabel to havesuch a provision for life. "

A slight smile passed across Mr. Withers' face, and his wife saw thatthat was not at all the way in which he looked at it. 

"That is just like you men, James, " she said a little pettishly. "Youask us what we think about things when you have perfectly made up yourminds what you mean to do, whether we agree with you or not. "

"I don't think that's often the case with us. Still I did want to seewhether the matter would have struck you at once in the same light inwhich I see it, and I perceive that it has not. "

"Well, James, let me hear your view of the matter. I dare say I shallagree with you when you tell me what it is. "

"Well, then, Amy, " Mr. Withers said seriously, "it appears to me thatwe cannot accept this offer for Mabel. "

Mrs. Withers looked a little blank. The living was not a rich one, andassured as they had been by Mr. Penfold that he intended to providefor Mabel, they had not endeavored to lay by anything for her, and hadfreely dispensed their surplus income among the sick and needy of theparish. The disappearance of the will had disappointed their hopes, and raised many anxious thoughts in Mrs. Withers' mind respectingMabel's future, and the offer contained in the letter had thereforefilled her with pleasure. But she greatly valued her husband'sjudgment, and therefore only replied:

"Why, dear?"

"Well, you see, wife, we are both thoroughly agreed that these ladiesare depriving Mabel of the fortune Herbert Penfold left her. They areconcealing or have destroyed his will, and are at present in what wemay call fraudulent possession of his property. Now, I do not thinkthat under these circumstances we can accept a favor at their hands. To do so would be practically to acquiesce in what we consider therobbery of our child, and the acceptance would of course involve arenewal of friendly relations with them; a thing which, believing aswe do that they are acting wickedly would be distasteful in theextreme, not to say impossible. "

"Of course you are right, dear, " Mrs. Withers said, rising from herseat and going over and kissing her husband tenderly. "I had notthought of it in that light at all. In fact I had hardly thought aboutit at all, except that it would be nice to see Mabel provided for. "

"It would be nice, my dear. But we surely need not be anxious abouther. We may hope that she will make a happy marriage. We may hope toothat we may be spared long enough to make some provision for her, for, of course, we must now curtail our expenses and lay by as much as wecan for her. Lastly, dear, we need not be anxious; because we trustthat God will provide for her should we not be enabled to do so. Buteven were I sure that we should both be taken together, I would ratherleave her in His hands than accept money wrongfully obtained andcondone an abominable action. There is, too, another point from whichthe matter should be looked at. You see this curious condition thatthey propose, that the annuity shall be forfeited unless she marrywith their sanction. Why should they propose such a condition?"

"I am sure I don't know, James; for of course, we should never giveour sanction to her marriage unless we approved of her choice, andsurely the Miss Penfolds would not disapprove of a choice that weapproved of?"

"Well, they might, my dear. You know how bitterly they disliked RalphConway, and how they resented his being at the Hall. It is quitepossible they may have had some idea of Herbert's views about him andMabel, and are determined that he shall not benefit through Mabel byone penny of their brother's property; and this clause is speciallydesigned so that in case the two young people ever should cometogether they may be able if not to stop it--at any rate to stop theannuity. That is the only interpretation I can give to thiscondition. "

"Very likely that is so James. Really these women seem to get moredetestable every day. "

Mr. Withers smiled at his wife's vehemence. "There is still anotherreason why we cannot take the money. Ralph Conway has been as muchdefrauded as Mabel, and his mother, as you see by her letters, isdetermined not to sit down quietly under the wrong. What she means todo I have not the slightest idea, nor do I think that there is themost remote probability she will ever succeed in finding the will. Tallboys appears to have made a most thorough search of the house, anddo what she will she cannot have any opportunity of searching as hehas done. Still she clearly has something on her mind. She intends tomake some attempt or other to discover the will, which, if found, willbenefit Mabel equally with her son. Therefore we cannot but regard heras our friend and ally. Now, were we to accept the money for Mabel weshould in fact be acquiescing, not only in the wrong done to her butin that done to Ralph. We should, in fact, be going over to the enemy. We could not take their money and even tacitly connive in her effortsto find the will. "

"I agree with you entirely, James. It would be impossible; only I dowish you had said all this before letting me be so foolish as to saythat I thought we ought to take it. "

"You didn't say so, dear, " Mr. Withers said smiling. "You only gaveexpression to the first natural thought of a mother that it would be anice thing for Mabel. You had given the matter no furtherconsideration than that, and I was quite sure that as soon as youthought the matter over you would see it in the same light that I do. But I think that before we send off our reply we should put the matterbefore Mabel herself. I have no doubt whatever what her answer willbe, but at the same time she ought to know of the offer which has beenmade to her. "

CHAPTER IX. 

MR. TALLBOYS' VISITOR. 

Mr. Withers was fully justified in his conviction that there need beno doubt as to the view Mabel would take of the Miss Penfold's offer. The girl had hitherto been in entire ignorance both as to the willbeing missing, and of the interest she had in it. She was now calledin from the garden, and was much surprised when her father told her tosit down, as he and her mother wished to have a serious talk with her. 

"Do you know, my little Mabel, " he began, "that you have had a narrowescape of being an heiress?"

"An heiress, papa! Do you mean of having a lot of money?"

"Yes, of coming in some day to a fortune. Mr. Penfold some time agoconfided to your mother and me his intention of dividing his propertyequally between Ralph Conway and yourself. "

"What! all the Penfold estates, papa, and the house and everything?"

"Yes, my dear. Everything, including the large sum of money that hasaccumulated during the years Mr. Penfold has not been spending a thirdof his income. "

"Then if he meant that, papa, how is it that I am not going to be anheiress?"

"Simply, my dear, because the will by which Mr. Penfold left theproperty to you and Ralph is missing. "

Mr. Withers then told the whole story of the loss of the will, thesearch that had been made for it, and the strong grounds there werefor believing in the existence of some secret place in the Hall, andthat this place of concealment was known to Mr. Penfold's sisters. 

"But they surely could never be so wicked as that, papa. They havealways seemed to like me--not very much, you know, because theythought I wasn't quiet and ladylike enough. Still I don't think theyreally disliked me. "

"No, I think in their way they liked you, Mabel; and perhaps if Mr. Penfold had half left his property to you, divided the other halfbetween them the will would have been found. But they certainly didnot like Ralph Conway. They disliked him partly no doubt for himself, but principally on account of a wrong which I believe they once did tohis mother. Now, it is in human nature, Mabel, that you may forgive awrong done to you, but it is very hard to forgive a person you havewronged. Anyhow, I am convinced that it was more to prevent Mrs. Conway's son from getting this money than to get it themselves thatthey have concealed this will, or rather that they refuse to point outits place of concealment. "

"But it does seem hard, papa, that Mr. Penfold should have lefteverything to Ralph and me and nothing to his sisters. "

"The Miss Penfolds have a very comfortable income of their own, Mabel, and their brother might very well have thought there was no occasionfor them to have more; beside, although they lived in his house, andindeed managed it and him, Mr. Penfold had, I know, strong reason tobelieve that they had ruined his life. But this is a matter into whichwe need not go. Well, Mabel, the Miss Penfolds have just given a proofthat they do not dislike you. Now I will read you this letter, becauseI think you ought to know it has been written, and I will then tellyou the reasons why your mother and I think that the offer cannot beaccepted. "

Mabel listened in silence until her father had finished the argumentshe had used with his wife, with the exception only of that relating tothe Miss Penfolds' motives in putting in the condition concerningMabel's marriage. When he ceased speaking she exclaimed indignantly, "Of course, papa, we could not take the money, not if it were tentimes as much! Why, we could not look Mrs. Conway and Ralph in theface again! Beside, how could we speak to people one believes to havedone such a wicked thing?"

"Very well, Mabel. I was quite sure that you would agree with us, butat the same time I thought it was right before we refused the offeryou should know that it was made. Whatever our sentiments on thesubject might be, we should not have been justified in refusingwithout your knowledge an offer that might, from a worldly point ofview, be your interest to accept. "

"Why, papa, " Mabel said, "I would rather go out and weed turnips orwatch sheep, like some of the girls in the village, than touch a pennyof the Miss Penfolds' money. "

A short time after this Mr. Tallboys' clerk brought a letter into hisprivate office. 

"A lady asked me to give you this, sir. " The solicitor opened it. Itcontained only a card. 

"Show the lady in. How are you, madam? I am glad to have the pleasureof making your acquaintance. I suppose you are staying with Mr. Withers?"

"No, Mr. Tallboys, I am at the hotel here. I only arrived an hoursince by the packet from Dover. "

"Dear me. I am afraid you have had a very unpleasant voyage. "

"It has not been pleasant, " Mrs. Conway said quietly. "But I preferredit to the long journey by coach up to London, and down here again. Wewere five days on the way, as the vessel put in at so many ports. Still that was quite a minor question with me. I wanted to see you andhave a talk with you personally. There is no saying into whose handsletters may fall, and one talk face to face does more good than ascore of letters. "

Mr. Tallboys looked rather surprised, and the idea flashed across hismind that the only business Mrs. Conway could want to see him aboutmust be some proposal for raising money upon the security of herannuity. 

"I presume, Mr. Tallboys, from what I hear, that you are as thoroughlyconvinced as I am myself that this will of Mr. Penfold's is inexistence, and is hidden somewhere about the Hall?"

"Yes, I think so, Mrs. Conway. That is, supposing it has not beendestroyed. "

"Do you think it likely that it has been destroyed, Mr. Tallboys?"

"Well, that I cannot say, " the solicitor said gravely. "I have, ofcourse, thought much over this matter. It is one that naturally vexedme much for several reasons. In the first place, Mr. Withers and youyourself had been good enough to place the matter in my hands, and toauthorize me to act for you, and it is always a sort of vexation to aprofessional man when his clients lose their cause, especially when heis convinced that they are in the right. In the second place, I ammuch disturbed that the wishes of my late client, Mr. Penfold, shouldnot have been carried out. Thirdly, I feel now that I myself amsomewhat to blame in the matter, in that I did not represent to Mr. Penfold the imprudence of his placing valuable papers in a placewhere, should anything happen to him suddenly, they might not befound. Of course I could not have anticipated this hostile action onthe part of the Miss Penfolds. Still, I blame myself that I did notwarn Mr. Penfold of the possibility of what has in fact happenedtaking place. Lastly, " and he smiled, "I have a personal feeling inthe matter. I have lost a business that added somewhat considerably tomy income. "

"I don't think any of us have thought of blaming you in the matter, Mr. Tallboys. I am sure that I have not. You could not possibly haveforeseen that Mr. Penfold's sisters were likely to turn out thieves. "

"Well, that is rather a strong expression, Mrs. Conway; though naturalenough I must admit in your position as Mr. Ralph Conway's mother. Yousee, there is a difference between concealing and not disclosing. Mr. Penfold himself concealed the will. The Miss Penfolds simply refuse toassist us in our search for it. "

"And as the nearest heirs take possession of the property. "

"Quite so, Mrs. Conway. I am not defending their conduct, whichmorally is dishonest in the extreme, but I doubt whether any court oflaw would find it to be a punishable offense. "

"Well, now, Mr. Tallboys, I want you to let me know whether yoususpect that they have destroyed the will; which, I suppose, would bea punishable offense. "

"Certainly the destruction of the will, in order that those whodestroyed might get possession of property, would be criminal. Well, Idon't know; I have thought it over in every sense, and think thebalance of probability is against their having destroyed it. In thefirst place the Miss Penfolds doubtless consider that the will is sosecurely hidden there is little, if any, chance of its beingdiscovered. That this is so we know, from the fact that although Iransacked the house from top to bottom, pulled down wainscoting, lifted floors, and tried every imaginable point which either I or themen who were working with me suspected to be a likely spot for ahiding-place, we did not succeed in finding it. 

"Now, I have noticed that ladies have at times somewhat peculiar ideasas to morality, and are apt to steer very close to the wind. The MissPenfolds may consider themselves perfectly justified in declining togive us any assistance in finding the will, soothing their consciencesby the reflection that by such refusal they are committing no offenseof which the law takes cognizance; but while doing this they mightshrink from the absolutely criminal offense of destroying the will. Ido not say that now they have entered upon the path they have thatthey would not destroy the will if they thought there was a chance ofits being discovered. I only say that, thinking it to be absolutelysafe, they are unlikely to perform an act which, if discovered, wouldbring them under the power of the law. 

"They may consider themselves free to believe, or if not actually tobelieve, to try and convince themselves, that for aught they knowtheir brother may have destroyed the will, and that it is not for themto prove whether he did so or not. Upon these grounds, therefore, itseems to me probable that the will is still in existence; but Iacknowledge that so far as its utility is concerned it might as wellhave been destroyed by Mr. Penfold himself or by his sisters. "

"Well, Mr. Tallboys, no doubt you are thinking that you might as wellhave expressed this opinion to me on paper, and that I have troubledmyself very unnecessarily in making this journey to have it from yourown lips. "

"Well, yes, Mrs. Conway, I do not deny that this was in my mind. "

"It would have been useless for me to make the journey had this beenall, Mr. Tallboys. I am very glad to have heard your opinion, whichagrees exactly with that which I myself have formed, but it wasscarcely with the object of eliciting it that I have made thisjourney. We will now proceed to that part of the subject. We agreethat the will is probably still in existence, and that it is hiddensomewhere about the Hall. The next question is, how is it to befound?"

"Ah! that is a very difficult question indeed, Mrs. Conway. "

"Yes, it is difficult, but not, I think, impossible. You have doneyour best, Mr. Tallboys, and have failed. You have no furthersuggestion to offer, no plan that occurs to you by which you mightdiscover it?"

"None whatever, " Mr. Tallboys said decidedly. "I have done all that Icould do; and have, in fact, dismissed the question altogether from mymind. I had the authority of the court to search, and I have searchedvery fully, and have reported my failure to the court. The power tosearch would certainly not be renewed unless upon some very stronggrounds indeed. "

"I suppose not, Mr. Tallboys; that is what I expected. Well, it seemsto me that you having done all in your power for us, your clients, andhaving now relinquished your search, it is time for us, or some of us, to take the matter in hand. "'

Mr. Tallboys looked surprised. 

"I do not quite understand, Mrs. Conway, how you can take it in hand. "

"No? Well, I can tell you, Mr. Tallboys, that I am going to do so. Iam not going to sit down quietly and see my son robbed of hisinheritance. I have quite made up my mind to devote my life to thismatter, and I have come, not to ask your advice--for I dare say youwould try to dissuade me, and my resolution is unalterable--but to askyou to give me what aid you can in the matter. "

"I shall be glad to give you aid in any way, Mrs. Conway, if you willpoint out to me the direction in which my assistance can be of use. Isuppose you have formed some sort of plan, for I own that I can see nodirection whatever in which you can set about the matter. "

"My intention is, Mr. Tallboys, to search for this hiding-placemyself. "

Mr. Tallboys raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

"To search yourself, Mrs. Conway! But how do you propose to gainadmittance to the Hall, and how, even supposing that you gainadmittance, do you propose to do more than we have done, or even somuch; because any fresh disturbance of the fabric of the house wouldbe out of the question?"

"That I quite admit. Still we know there is the hiding-place, and itis morally certain that that hiding-place is opened or approached bythe touching of some secret spring. It is not by pulling downwainscoting or by pulling up floors, or by force used in any way, thatit is to be found. Mr. Penfold, it would seem, used it habitually as adepository for papers of value. He certainly, therefore, had not tobreak down or to pull up anything. He opened it as he would open anyother cabinet or cupboard, by means of a key or by touching a spring. You agree with me so far, Mr. Tallboys?"

"Certainly, Mrs. Conway. There can be no doubt in my mind that thishiding-place, whether a chamber or a small closet, is opened in theway you speak of. "

"Very well then; all that has to be looked for is a spring. No forceis requisite; all that is to be done is to find the spring. "

"Yes, but how is it to be found? I believe we tried every square footof the building. "

"I have no doubt you did, but it will be necessary to try every squareinch, I will not say of the whole building, but of certain rooms andpassages. I think we may assume that it is not in the upper rooms orservants' quarters. Such a hiding-place would be contrived where itcould be used by the owners of the house without observation fromtheir dependants, and would therefore be either in the drawing-room, dining-room, the principal bed-chambers, or the passages, corridors, or stairs between or adjoining these. "

"I quite follow you in your reasoning, Mrs. Conway, and agree withyou. Doubtless, the place is so situated as to be what I may callhandy to the owners of the Hall, but I still do not see how you aregoing to set about finding it. "

"I am going to set about it by going to live at the Hall. "

"Going to live at the Hall, Mrs. Conway! But how is that possibleunder the circumstances? You are, I should say, the last person whomthe Miss Penfolds would at present invite to take up her residencethere. "

"I agree with you, if they had any idea of my identity; but that isjust what I intend they shall not have. My plan is to go there in thecapacity of a servant. Once there I shall examine, as I say, everysquare inch of the rooms and places where this hiding-place is likelyto exist. Every knob, knot, or inequality of any kind in the wood-workand stone-work shall be pressed, pulled, and twisted, until I find it. I am aware that the task may occupy months or even years, for, ofcourse, my opportunities will be limited. Still, whether months oryears, I intend to undertake it and to carry it through, if my life isspared until I have had time thoroughly and completely to carry itout. "

Mr. Tallboys was silent from sheer astonishment. 

"Do you realty mean that you think of going there as a servant, Mrs. Conway?"

"Certainly I do, " she replied calmly. "I suppose the work will be noharder for me than for other women; and whereas they do it for someten or twelve pounds a year I shall do it for a fortune. I see not theslightest difficulty or objection in that part of the business. Ishall, of course, let my house at Dover, making arrangements for myson's letters there being forwarded, and for my letters to him beingposted in Dover. I shall have the satisfaction that while engaged uponthis work my income will be accumulating for his benefit. I own that Ican see no difficulty whatever in my plan being carried out. 

"Now, as to the assistance that I wish you to give me. It could, perhaps, have been more readily given by Mr. Withers, for naturally hewould know personally most of the servants of the Hall, as themajority of them doubtless belong to the village. But Mr. Withers, asa clergyman, might have conscientious scruples against taking any partin a scheme which, however righteous its ends, must be conducted bywhat he would consider underground methods, and involving a certainamount of deceit. At any rate, I think it better that neither he norMrs. Withers should have any complicity whatever in my plans. Itherefore come to you. What I want, in the first place, is to find outwhen a vacancy is likely to be caused by some servant leaving;secondly, if no such vacancy is likely to occur, for a vacancy to bemanufactured by inducing some servant to leave--a present of a year'swages would probably accomplish that; thirdly, the vacancy must occurin the case of some servant whose work would naturally lie in the partof the building I have to examine; finally, it must be arranged that Ican be so recommended as to insure my getting the place. "

Mr. Tallboys was silent for some time. 

"Certainly your plan does appear feasible, Mrs. Conway, " he said atlength. "It does seem to me that if once installed in the way youpropose at the Hall, and prepared to spend, as you say, months or evenyears in the search, it is possible and even probable that in the endyou may light upon the spring that will open this mystery. You must beprepared to face much unpleasantness. You will have for all this timeto associate with servants, to do menial work, to relinquish all theluxuries and appliances to which you have all your life beenaccustomed, and possibly to fail at last. Still, if you are preparedto face all this, there does appear to me to be a possibility of yourenterprise being crowned with success. "

"I have thought it all over, Mr. Tallboys, and am quite prepared tosubmit to all the sacrifices you mention, which, however, willscarcely be felt by me to be sacrifices, working, as I shall be, forthe future of my son. And now, can I rely upon your assistance?"

"You shall have any assistance I can give, assuredly, Mrs. Conway. Thematter is by no means a simple one, still I can see no reason why itshould not be successfully carried out. "

"It must take time, that I quite anticipate, Mr. Tallboys. Time, fortunately, is of no consequence. "

"Well, Mrs. Conway, " Mr. Tallboys said, after sitting for some minutesin thought, "it is a matter that will require careful thinking over. How long do you intend staying here?"

"Just as long as it is necessary, " Mrs. Conway said, "a day or amonth. I have not given my own name at the 'George, ' but shall beknown there as Mrs. Brown. As you saw, I sent my card in in anenvelope, so that even your clerk should not be aware that Mrs. Conwaywas in Weymouth. "

"But, " the solicitor said suddenly, "surely the Miss Penfolds knew youin the old time?"

"Certainly, they did. But, to begin with, that is nearly twenty yearsago; and, of course, I have changed very much since then. "

"Not very much, Mrs. Conway, " the lawyer said; "for I once had thepleasure of seeing you when I went to the Hall to see Mr. Penfold onbusiness. I do not say that I should have known you anywhere, buthaving had your card I remembered you at once when you came into theroom; and, indeed, if you will excuse my saying so, you might passanywhere as thirty. "

"So much the better for my purpose at present, " Mrs. Conway replied. "Thirty will do very well for the age of a housemaid at the Hall. Ishould imagine the Miss Penfolds would prefer a woman of that age to ayoung girl; beside, you see, I must be an upper housemaid in order tohave charge of the part of the house I want to examine. As to knowingme, in the first place the Miss Penfolds will not have the advantageof receiving my card, and, in the second place, it is not verydifficult for a woman to alter her appearance so as to beunrecognizable by another who has not seen her for twenty years. Myhair is a good deal darker now than it was then, and I wore italtogether differently. A little black dye on that and my eyebrows, aservant's cap and gown, will so alter me that you who see me now wouldhardly know me; certainly they will not do so. You need not troubleabout that, Mr. Tallboys; I will answer for it that they shall notknow me. It is possible, just possible, that Mr. And Mrs. Withersmight know me if they saw me in church; but I shall, without lettingthem know my plans, guard against any indiscretion. Now, as we havequite settled the matter, Mr. Tallboys, I shall go back to the inn, and when you have thought the matter over and decided upon the bestplan for carrying out my wishes, you will send a note to Mrs. Brown atthe 'George, ' making an appointment for me to meet you here. "

Mr. Tallboys sat for some time in thought after Mrs. Conway had lefthim. It was certainly a daring scheme, requiring no little courage, resolution, and self-possession to carry out, but his client evidentlypossessed all these qualities. She had a clear head, and seemed tohave grasped every point in the matter. There was really no reason whyshe should not succeed. There must be a spring somewhere, and if shewas as patient as she declared herself to be, she would surely find itsooner or later; that is, if she could carry out her search withoutexciting suspicion. 

The first difficulty was to get her settled at the Hall. What was thebest way to set about that? It certainly was not as easy as she seemedto think, still there must be some way of managing it. At any rate hemust act cautiously in the matter, and must not appear in it in anyway personally. And so he sat thinking, until at last the clerk, whohad been a good deal surprised at receiving no instruction from him asto several matters he had in hand, knocked at the door, and came inwith a number of papers, and Mr. Tallboys was obliged to dismiss thematter from his mind for a time, and to attend to present business. The very next morning Mrs. Conway received the note, and again went tothe office. 

"Do you know, Mrs. Conway, " he began, as soon as his client entered, "the more I think over the matter, the more I feel that it isextremely difficult to manage it from here. I should have to engagesome one to go over in the first place. He would have to stay in thevillage some time before he could make the acquaintance of theservants at the Hall. He would have to get very intimate with thembefore he could venture to broach such a thing for if he made amistake, and the woman told her mistress that some one had been tryingto persuade her to leave in order to introduce another into the place, their suspicions would be so aroused that the scheme would becomehopeless. "

"Yes, I see the difficulty, Mr. Tallboys; for I thought it over inevery way before I came to you. Beside I don't like the thought ofthis intermediate. No doubt you would choose a trustworthy man. StillI don't like the thought of any one knowing the secret, especially asthe plan may take so long working out. "

"What I have been thinking, Mrs. Conway is this. No doubt the servantsat the Hall have taken sides on this matter. Of course from oursearches there they know that Mr. Penfold's will is missing, and thatit is because it is missing that the Miss Penfolds are now mistressesthere. Without knowing anything myself about the feelings of theservants there, beyond what would probably be the case from thedifference of character between Mr. Penfold and his sisters, I shouldimagine that they were fond of him, for he was the kindest and mosteasy-going of masters, and not very fond of his sisters, who are, as Ihave always observed in the course of my professional visits there, the reverse of agreeable. 

"If this is the case, not improbably there may be one or other ofthese women with whom you might open direct negotiations. What hasstruck me is this. The men who were over there with me of course sleptand took their meals in the village; still, going about as they did inthe house, no doubt they talked with the servants. The Miss Penfoldswere away, and I dare say the women had plenty of time to gossip; andit is probable the men gathered from their talk something of theirsentiments toward the Miss Penfolds and their brother, and which sidethey would be likely to go with. I might ask the foreman about it. "

"I think the idea is a capital one, Mr. Tallboys; but there is onedetail I think might be improved. I imagine that if instead of askingthe foreman you choose the youngest and best-looking of the men, provided he is unmarried, you are more likely to get at the women'ssentiments. "

Mr. Tallboys laughed. "No doubt you are right, Mrs. Conway. That shallbe done. I must get the foreman first, though, for I don't know thenames or addresses of the other men. I shall tell him frankly that Iwant to find out the opinions of the servants at the Hall about themissing will, ask him which of his men was the most given to gossipwith them, and tell him to send him here to me at ten o'clockto-morrow morning; then when you see him and hear what he has to say, you can judge for yourself how far you care to trust him in thematter, or whether to trust him at all. Perhaps you will come here afew minutes before ten, and then I can tell you what the foreman hassaid first. "

Accordingly at a quarter to ten the next day Mrs. Conway was again atthe office. 

"I think, Mrs. Conway, that things are going even better than wehoped. The foreman said that from what little talk he had with theservants, he thought they had all been attached to Mr. Penfold, andthat his sisters were by no means popular among them. He said veryoften one or other of them would come into the room where they wereworking and make suggestions, and hunt about themselves to see if theycould find anything. But the best part of it is that one of thecarpenters, a steady fellow of twenty-five, took up, as he calls it, with the upper housemaid, and he believes there is a talk about theirbeing married some day. If this is so it would be the very thing foryou. You could help him to get married, and the girl could help you toget her place. "

"The very thing, " Mrs. Conway said. "Nothing could have turned outbetter. "

In a few minutes the young carpenter arrived. He was apleasant-looking young fellow, and Mrs. Conway was not surprised atthe impression he had made upon the housemaid at the Hall. 

"Sit down, Johnson, " Mr. Tallboys began. "You know what I asked you tocome here for?"

"Mr. Peters told me that it was something to do with that job we hadat the Miss Penfolds', sir. "

"Yes, that is it, Johnson. You know we were looking for a missing willthere?"

"Yes, sir; so I understood. "

"Now, what we wanted to ask you specially, Johnson, was whether youcan tell us what the servants at the Hall thought about it?"

The young carpenter turned rather red in the face, and twisted his capabout in his fingers. 

"Well, sir, I don't know that I can say much about that. I don't thinkmost of them was overfond of the Miss Penfolds, and wouldn't have beensorry if the will had been found that would have given them anothermaster or mistress. "

"Just so, Johnson, that is what I thought was likely. Now, the point Iwant to know, Johnson, and this lady here is, I may tell you, interested in the matter of this will being found, is as to whetherthere is in your opinion any one of the maids at the Hall who could betrusted to aid us in this business? Of course we should make it worthher while to do so. "

Again the young carpenter colored, and fidgeted on his chair, examining his cap intently. 

"I suppose it would depend on what you wanted her to do, " he said atlast. "The Hall is a good service, though they don't like themistresses, and of course none of them would like to do anything thatmight risk their place. "

"That's natural enough, Johnson. But, you see, we could perhaps morethan make up to her for that risk. "

"Well, I don't know, sir, " the man said after another pause. "It isn'tonly the place; but, you see, a young woman wouldn't like to riskgetting into a row like and being turned away in disgrace, or perhapseven worse. I don't know what you want, you see, sir?"

Mr. Tallboys looked at Mrs. Conway, and his eyes expressed thequestion, How far shall we go? She replied by taking the matter in herown hands. 

"We can trust you, can't we, whether you agree to help us or not?"

"Yes, ma'am, " he said more decidedly than he had hitherto spoken. "Youcan trust me. If you tell me what you want, I will tell you straightwhether I can do anything. If I don't like it, the matter shan't gobeyond me. "

"Very well, then, I will tell you exactly what we want. We believethat the will is still there, and we believe that if some one in thehouse were to make a thorough search it might be found. It is rightthat it should be found, and that the property should go to those towhom Mr. Penfold left it, and who are now being kept out of it by theMiss Penfolds. I am very much interested in the matter, because it ismy son who is being cheated out of his rights; and I have made up mymind to find the will. Now, what I want to know is, do you think thatone of the housemaids would be willing to give up her place andintroduce me as her successor, if I gave her twenty-five pounds? Thatwould be a nice little sum, you know, to begin housekeeping with. "

Mrs. Conway saw at once by the expression of the young carpenter'sface that she had secured him as an ally. 

"I think that might be managed, ma'am, " he said in a tone that showedher he was endeavoring to hide his gladness. "Yes, I think that couldbe managed. There is certainly a young woman at the Hall--" and hestopped. 

Mrs. Conway helped him. "I may tell you, Mr. Johnson, that the foremanhinted to Mr. Tallboys that he thought you and the upper housemaidwere likely one of these days to come together, and that isprincipally why we spoke to you instead of to one of the others whowere there. We thought, you see, that she might probably be leavingher place one of these days, and that perhaps this twenty-five poundsmight enable you and her to marry earlier than you otherwise wouldhave done. In that case, you see, it would suit us all. You and shewould, moreover, have the satisfaction of knowing that you were aidingto right a great wrong, and to restore to those who have beendefrauded the property Mr. Penfold intended for them. What do yousay?"

"Well, ma'am, I think that, as you say, it would be doing the rightthing; and I don't deny that Martha and I have agreed to wait a yearor two, till we could save up enough between us for me to start on myown account; for as long as I am a journeyman, and liable to lose mywork any day, I would not ask her to come to me. But what with what wehave laid by, and this money you offer, I think we might very wellventure, " and his radiant face showed the happiness the prospectcaused him. 

"Very well, then. We may consider that as settled, " Mrs. Conway said. "What I want is for you to tell your Martha that she is to give noticeto leave at once, and that if she has an opportunity she is to mentionto Miss Penfold that she has a friend who is out of place at present, and whom she is sure will suit. Of course as she will say that she isgoing to leave to be married, Miss Penfold cannot be vexed with her, as she might be otherwise, and may take her friend on herrecommendation. "

"But suppose she shouldn't, ma'am, " and the young carpenter's facefell considerably at the thought, "where would Martha be then?"

"I shall pay the money, of course, " Mrs. Conway said, "whether I getthe place through her or not. I should think that Miss Penfold willvery likely be glad to be saved the trouble of looking for anotherservant. But, if not, I must try some other way to get the place. "

"What name am I to say her friend has?"

"Let me think. Ann Sibthorpe. "

"But suppose she asks about where her friend has been in service, ma'am, and about her character?"

"We will settle that afterward. The first thing to do is for you to goover and see her, and ask her if she is willing to leave and do this. "

"I think I can answer for that, ma'am, " the young carpenter said witha quiet smile. 

"Very well. Still, we had better have it settled. Will you go overto-day and see her? and then by to-morrow Mr. Tallboys and I will havetalked the matter over and settled about the other points. Of courseyou will tell her not to give notice until she has heard from you asto what she is to say about me. "

"Very well, ma'am. I will start at once. "

"I can arrange about the character, " Mr. Tallboys said when they werealone. "I have a cousin in London, to whom I shall write and explainthe matter, and who will, I am sure, oblige me by writing to say thatAnn Sibthorpe is all that can be desired as a servant: steady, quiet, industrious and capable. Well, I really congratulate you, Mrs. Conway. At first I thought your project a hopeless one; now I think you haveevery chance of success. "

CHAPTER X. 

ON DETACHMENT. 

Ralph was soon at home in the regiment. He found his comrades a cheeryand pleasant set of men, ready to assist the newly-joined youngofficers as far as they could. A few rough practical jokes wereplayed; but Ralph took them with such perfect good temper that theywere soon abandoned. 

He applied himself very earnestly to mastering the mystery of drill, and it was not long before he was pronounced to be efficient, and hewas then at Captain O'Connor's request appointed to his company, inwhich there happened to be a vacancy for an ensign. He had had thegood luck to have an excellent servant assigned to him. Denis Mulliganwas a thoroughly handy fellow, could turn his hand to anything, andwas always good tempered and cheery. 

"The fellow is rather free and easy in his ways, " Captain O'Connortold Ralph when he allotted the man to him; "but you will getaccustomed to that. Keep your whisky locked up, and I think you willbe safe in all other respects with him. He was servant to CaptainDaly, who was killed at Toulouse, and I know Daly wouldn't have partedwith him on any account. His master's death almost broke Denis' heart, and I have no doubt he will get just as much attached to you in time. These fellows have their faults, and want a little humoring; but, takethem as a whole, I would rather have an Irish soldier servant than oneof any other nationality, provided always that he is not too fond ofthe bottle. About once in three months I consider reasonable, and Idon't think you will find Mulligan break out more frequently thanthat. "

Ralph never regretted the choice O'Connor had made for him, and foundDenis an excellent servant; and his eccentricities and the opinionswhich he freely expressed afforded him a constant source of amusement. 

A few days later Captain O'Connor came into his room. "Pack up yourkit. The company is ordered on detached duty, and there is an end toyour dancing and flirting. "

"I don't know about flirting, " Ralph laughed. "As far as I can see youdo enough for the whole company in that way. But where are we goingto?"

"We are ordered to Ballyporrit. An out of the way hole as a man couldwish to be buried in. It seems that there are a lot of stills at workin the neighborhood. The gauger has applied for military aid. A nicejob we have got before us. I have had my turn at it before, and knowwhat it means. Starting at nightfall, tramping ten or fifteen milesover the hills and through bogs, and arriving at last at some wretchedhut only to find a wretched old woman sitting by a peat fire, anddivil a sign of still or mash tubs or anything else. We start thefirst thing to-morrow morning; so you had better get your kit packedand your flask filled to-night. We have nineteen miles march beforeus, and a pretty bad road to travel. I have just been in to Desmond'squarters, and he is tearing his hair at the thought of having to leavethe gayeties of Cork. "

"I think it is a nice change, " Ralph said, "and shall be very glad tohave done with all these parties and balls. Ballyporrit is near thesea, isn't it?"

"Yes. About a mile away, I believe. Nearly forty miles from here. "

The detachment marched next morning. Ralph enjoyed the novelty of themarch, but was not sorry when at the end of the second day's trampthey reached the village. The men were quartered in the houses of thevillagers, and the officers took rooms at the inn. Except when engagedin expeditions to capture stills--of which they succeeded in findingnearly a score--there was not much to do at Ballyporrit. All thegentry resident within a wide circle called upon them, and invitationsto dinners and dances flowed in rapidly. As one officer was obliged toremain always in the village with the detachment, Ralph seldom availedhimself of these invitations. O'Connor and Lieutenant Desmond wereboth fond of society; and, as Ralph very much preferred stayingquietly in his quarters, he was always ready to volunteer to take dutyupon these occasions. 

Ballyporrit lay within a mile of the sea, and Ralph, when he hadnothing else to do, frequently walked to the edge of the cliffs, andsat there hour after hour watching the sea breaking among the rocksthree or four hundred feet below him, and the sea-birds flying hereand there over the water, and occasionally dashing down to itssurface. A few fishing boats could be seen, but it was seldom that adistant sail was visible across the water; for not one vessel in thosedays sailed for the west to every fifty that now cross the Atlantic. The rocks upon which he sat rose in most places almost sheer up fromthe edge of the sea; but occasionally they fell away, and a goodclimber could make his way over the rough rocks and bowlders down tothe water's edge. As, however, there was nothing to be gained by it, Ralph never made the attempt. 

Looking back over the land the view was a dreary one. There was not ahuman habitation within sight, the hills were covered with brownheather, while in the bottoms lay bogs, deep and treacherous to thosewho knew not the way across. It was rarely that a human figure wasvisible. Once or twice a day a revenue man came along the edge of thecliff, and would generally stop for a talk with Ralph. 

"There was, " he said, "a good deal of smuggling carried on along thatpart of the coast during the war; but there is not so much of it now, though no doubt a cargo is run now and then. It does not pay as it didwhen the French ports were all closed, and there was not a drop ofbrandy to be had save that which was run by the smugglers. Now thattrade is open again there is only the duty to save, and I fancy a goodmany of the boats have gone out of the business. You see, the revenuehas got its agents in the French ports, and gets news from them whatcraft are over there loading, and what part of the coast they comefrom. Along the English coast there is still a good deal of it. Therelace pays well; but there is not much sale for lace in Ireland, andnot much sale for brandy either, excepting in the towns. The peasantsand farmers would not thank you for it when they can get home-madewhisky for next to nothing. "

"I suppose that there is a good deal of that going on. "

"Any amount of it, sir. For every still that is captured I reckonthere must be a hundred at work that no one dreams of, and will be aslong as barley grows and there are bogs and hills all over thecountry, and safe hiding-places where no one not in the secret woulddream of searching. The boys know that we are not in their line ofbusiness, and mind our own affairs. If it were not for that, I cantell you, I wouldn't go along these cliffs at night for any pay theking would give me; for I know that before a week would be out my bodywould be found some morning down there on the rocks, and the coroner'sjury would bring in a verdict of tumbled over by accident, althoughthere wouldn't be a man of them but would know better. "

"Well, I am sure I don't want to find out anything about them. Ibelong to the detachment in Ballyporrit, and of course if the gaugercalls upon us we must march out and aid him in seizing a still. Butbeyond that it's no affair of ours. "

And yet although he so seldom saw any one to speak to, Ralph hadsometimes a sort of uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched. Once or twice he had caught a glimpse of what he thought was a man'shead among some rocks; but on walking carelessly to the spot he couldsee no signs of any one. Another time, looking suddenly round, he sawa boy standing at the edge of some boggy ground where the land dippedsuddenly away some two hundred yards from the edge of the cliff; butdirectly he saw that he was observed he took to his heels, andspeedily disappeared down the valley. 

Ralph did not trouble himself about these matters, nor did he see anyreason why any one should interest himself in his movements. Had hewandered about among the hills inland he might be taken for a spytrying to find out some of the hidden stills; but sitting here at theedge of the cliff watching the sea, surely no such absurd suspicioncould fall upon him. Had he been there at night the smugglers mighthave suspected him of keeping watch for them; but smugglers neverattempted to run their cargoes in broad daylight, and he never camedown there after dark. One day a peasant came strolling along. He wasa powerful-looking man and carried a heavy stick. Ralph was lying onhis back looking up at the clouds and did not hear the man approachtill he was close to him, then with a quick movement he sprang to hisfeet. 

"I did not hear you coming, " he said. "You have given me quite astart. "

"It's a fine day, yer honor, for sleeping on the turf here, " the mansaid civilly. 

"I was not asleep, " Ralph said; "though I own that I was getting onfor it. "

"Is yer honor expecting to meet any one here?" the man asked. "Sure, it's a mighty lonesome sort of place. "

"No, I am not expecting any one. I have only come out for a look atthe sea. I am never tired of looking at that. "

"It's a big lot of water, surely, " the man replied, looking over thesea with an air of interest as if the sight were altogether novel tohim. "A powerful lot of water. And I have heard them say that youoften come out here?"

"Yes, I often come out, " Ralph assented. 

"Don't you think now it is dangerous so near the edge of the cliff, yer honor? Just one step and over you would go, and it would be tenchances to one that the next tide would drift your body away, anddivil a one know what had become of you. "

"But I don't mean to take a false step, " Ralph said. 

"Sure, there is many a one takes a false step when he isn't dreamingabout it; and if ye didn't tumble over by yourself, just a push woulddo it. "

"Yes, but there is no one to give one a push, " Ralph said. 

"Maybe and maybe not, " the man replied. "I don't say if I was agentleman, and could spind me time as I liked, that I would be sittinghere on the edge of these cliffs, where you might come to harm anyminute. "

"I have no fear of coming to harm, " Ralph answered; "and I should besorry for any one who tried. I always carry a pistol. Not that I thinkthere is any chance of having to use it but it's always as well to beprepared. "

"It is that, yer honor, always as well; but I don't think I should bealways coming out here if I was you. "

"Why not, my good fellow? I harm no one, and interfere with no one. Surely it is open to me to come here and look at the sea without anyone taking offense at it. "

"That's as it may be, yer honor. Anyhow I have told you what I thinkof it. Good-morning to you. "

"I wonder what that fellow meant, " Ralph said, looking after him. "Hemeant something, I feel certain, though what it is I can't imagine. Ithought it was as well to let him know that I had a pistol handy, though he didn't look as if he intended mischief. I suppose after thisI had better not come here so often, though I have not the remotestidea in the world why I should annoy any one more by standing herethan if I was standing on the cliff in front of Dover Castle. However, it certainly is a lonely place, and I should have precious littlechance if two or three men took it into their heads to attack mehere. "

"They are queer people these Irish peasants of yours, O'Connor, " Ralphsaid as they sat at dinner that evening. 

"What's the matter with them now, Conway?"

"One can't even go and look at the sea from their cliffs without theirtaking it amiss, " and Ralph related the conversation he had had withthe peasant, adding that he was convinced he had been watched wheneverhe went there. 

"It is curious, certainly, " the captain said when he had finished. "Nodoubt they think you are spying after something; but that would nottrouble them unless there was something they were afraid of yourfinding out. Either there has been something going on, or there issome hiding-place down there on the face of the cliff, where maybethey have a still at work. Anyhow, I don't think I should neglect thewarning, Conway. You might be killed and thrown over the cliff, and noone be the wiser for it. I should certainly advise you to give upmooning about. "

"But there is nothing to do in this wretched village, " Ralph saiddiscontentedly. 

"Not if you stop in the village, I grant; but you might do as Desmondand I do when we are off duty; go over and take lunch at the Ryans', or Burkes', or any of the other families where we have a standinginvitation. They are always glad to see one, and there's plenty of funto be had. "

"That's all very well for you, O'Connor. You are a captain and asingle man, and one of their countrymen, with lots to say foryourself; but it is a different thing with me altogether. I can't dropin and make myself at home as you do. "

"Why, you are not shy, Conway?" O'Connor said in affected horror. "Surely such a disgrace has not fallen on his majesty's Twenty-eighthRegiment that one of its officers is shy? Such a thing is not recordedin its annals. "

"I am afraid it will have to be recorded now, " laughed Ralph. "For Iown that I am shy; if you call shy, feeling awkward and uncomfortablewith a lot of strange people, especially ladies. "

"Do not let it be whispered outside, " O'Connor said, "or thereputation of the regiment is gone forever among Irish girls. Desmond, this is a sad business. What are we to do with this man? You and Imust consult together how this thing is to be cured. "

"No, no, O'Connor, " Ralph said earnestly, knowing how fond O'Connorwas of practical jokes, and dreading that he and the lieutenant wouldbe putting him in some ridiculous position or other. "You will nevercure me if you set about it. I shall get over it in time; but it's thesort of thing that becomes ten times worse if you attempt to cure it. "

"We must think it over, my lad, " O'Connor said seriously. "This is aserious defect in your character; and as your commanding officer Iconsider it my bounden duty, both for your sake and that of theregiment, to take it into serious consideration and see what is to bedone. You may never have such a chance again of being cured as youhave here; for if a man goes away from Ireland without being cured ofshyness his case is an absolutely hopeless one. Desmond, you must turnthis matter seriously over in your mind, and I will do the same. Andnow it is time for us to be starting for the dance at the Regans'. Iam sorry you can't go with us, Desmond, as you are on duty. "

"I shall be very glad to take your duty, Desmond, " Ralph said eagerly. "I told you so this morning, and I thought you agreed. "

"As your commanding officer, " O'Connor said gravely, "I cannot permitthe exchange to be made, Mr. Conway. You have your duty to perform tothe regiment as well as Mr. Desmond, and your duty clearly is to goout and make yourself agreeable. I am surprised after what I have justbeen saying that you should think of staying at home. "

"Well, of course, if you want me to go I will go, " Ralph saidreluctantly. "But I don't know the Regans, and don't want to. "

"That is very ungracious, Conway. Mr. Regan is a retired pork merchantof Cork. He has given up his business and bought an estate here, andsettled down as a country gentleman. They say his father was apig-driver in Waterford. That's why he has bought a place on this sideof the county. But people have been rather shy of them; because, though he could buy three-fourths of them up, his money smells ofpork. Still, as the election is coming on, they have relaxed a bit. He's got the militia band, and there will be lashings of everything;and his girls are nice girls, whether their father sold pork or not. And it would be nothing short of cruel if we, the representatives ofhis majesty's army, did not put in an appearance; especially as wehave doubtless eaten many a barrel of his salt pork at sea. So put onyour number one coatee and let's be off. "

With a sign Ralph rose to carry out his orders, and he would have beenstill more reluctant to go had he observed the sly wink that passedbetween his captain and lieutenant. 

"He is quite refreshing, that boy, " O'Connor said as the door closedbehind Ralph. "That adventure in the West Indies showed he has plentyof pluck and presence of mind; but he is as shy as a girl. Though Idon't know why I should say that, for it's mighty few of them have anyshyness about them. He will grow out of it. I was just the same myselfwhen I was his age. "

Lieutenant Desmond burst into a roar of laughter. 

"I should have liked to have known you then, O'Connor. "

O'Connor joined in the laugh. 

"It's true though, Desmond. I was brought up by two maiden aunts inthe town of Dundalk, and they were always bothering me about mymanners; so that though I could hold my own in a slanging match downby the riverside, I was as awkward as a young bear when in genteelcompany. They used to have what they called tea-parties--and a fearfulinfliction they were--and I was expected to hand round the tea andcakes, and make myself useful. I think I might have managed wellenough if the old women would have let me alone; but they were alwaysexpecting me to do something wrong, and I was conscious that whateverthey were doing they had an eye upon me. 

"It's trying, you know, when you hear exclamations like this: 'Thesaints presarve us! if he hasn't nearly poked his elbow into Mrs. Fitzgerald's eye!' or, 'See now, if he isn't standing on Miss Macrae'strain!' One day I let a cup of coffee fall on to old Mrs. O'Toole'snew crimson silk dress. It was the first she had had for nine years tomy knowledge, and would have lasted her for the rest of her naturallife. And if you could have heard the squall she made, and theexclamations of my aunts, and the general excitement over thatwretched cup of coffee, you would never have forgotten it. 

"It had one good result, I was never asked to hand things round againand was indeed never expected to put in an appearance until thetea-things were taken away. I suffered for months for that silk dress. My aunts got two yards of material and presented them to Mrs. O'Toole;and for weeks and weeks I got short allowance of butter to my breadand no sugar in my tea, and had to hear remarks as to the necessityfor being economical. As for Mrs. O'Toole she never forgave me, andwas always saying spiteful things. But I got even with her once. Oneevening the doctor, who was her partner at whist, was called out, andI was ordered to take his place. Now, I played a pretty good game atwhist, better than the doctor did by a long chalk I flattered myself;but I didn't often play at home unless I was wanted to make up atable, and very glad I was to get out of it, for the ill-temper ofthose old harridans when they lost was something fearful. 

"It was only penny points, but if they had been playing for fivepounds they couldn't have taken it more to heart; and of course if Ihad the misfortune of being their partner they put it down entirely tomy bad play. Well, we held good cards, and at last we only wanted theodd trick to win. I held the last trump. Mrs. O'Toole was beaming asshe led the best spade, and felt that the game was won. I could notresist the temptation, but put my trump on her spade, led my smallcard, and the game was lost. Mrs. O'Toole gave a scream and sank backin her chair almost fainting, and when she recovered her breath andher voice went on like a maniac, and had a desperate quarrel with myaunts. I made my escape, and three days later, to my huge delight, wassent off to Dublin and entered the university. I only stayed thereabout six months, when a friend of my father's got me a commission;but that six months cured me of my shyness. "

"I am not surprised, " Desmond laughed; "it can only have been skindeep, I fancy, O'Connor. "

"I will give Conway his first lesson to-night, " the captain said. 

Dancing had already begun when Captain O'Connor and Ralph drove up ina dog-cart to the Regans', who lived some four miles from Ballyporrit. O'Connor introduced Ralph to his host, and then hurried away. In ashort time he was deep in conversation with Miss Tabitha Regan, whowas some years younger than her brother, and still believed herself tobe quite a girl. She was gorgeously arrayed with a plume of noddingfeathers in her headdress. 

"You are looking splendid to-night, Miss Regan, " O'Connor said in atone of deep admiration. "You do not give your nieces a chance. "

"Ah! you are flattering me, Captain O'Connor. "

"Not at all, Miss Regan; it's quite a sensation you make. My youngfriend Conway was tremendously struck with your appearance, and askedme who that splendid woman was. " Which was true enough, except for theword "splendid;" for as they had walked through the room Ralph's eyeshad fallen upon her, and he had exclaimed in astonishment, "Who onearth is that woman, O'Connor?"

"He is dying to be introduced to you. He is a little young, you know;but of good family, and may come into a lot of money one of thesedays. Only son, and all that. May I introduce him?"

"How you do go on, Captain O'Connor, " Miss Tabitha said, muchflattered. "By all means introduce him. "

O'Connor made his way back to Ralph. 

"Come along, Ralph; I will introduce you to our host's sister, MissRegan. Charming creature, and lots of money. Awfully struck with yourappearance. Come on, man; don't be foolish, " and, hooking his arm inRalph's, he led him across the room to the lady Ralph had beforenoticed. 

"Miss Regan, this is my brother-officer, Mr. Conway, Ralph, this isMiss Regan, our host's sister, although you would take her for hisdaughter. Miss Regan, Mr. Conway is most anxious to have the pleasureof the next dance with you if you are not engaged. "

Ralph murmured something in confirmation, and Miss Regan at once stoodup and placed her hand in his arm. Ralph gave a reproachful glance athis captain as he moved away. Fortunately, he was not called upon tosay much, for Miss Regan burst out:

"It is too bad of you not having been here before, Mr. Conway--quiterude of you. Captain O'Connor has spoken of you frequently, and wegirls have been quite curious to see you. There is the music strikingup. I think we had better take our places. I suppose as I am at thehead of my brother's house we had better take the place at the top. "

Ralph never forgot that dance. Miss Regan danced with amazingsprightliness, performing wonderful steps. Her ostrich plumes seemedto whirl round and round him, he had a painful feeling that every onewas grinning, and a mad desire to rush out of the house and makestraight for his quarters. 

"Your aunt is going it, " Captain O'Connor remarked to one of thedaughters of the house with whom he was dancing. "She sets quite anexample to us young people. "

The girl laughed. "She is very peculiar, Captain O'Connor; but it iscruel of you to laugh at her. I do wish she wouldn't wear suchwonderful headdresses; but she once went to court a good many yearsago at Dublin, and somebody told her that her headdress became her, and she has worn plumes ever since. "

"I am not laughing at her, Miss Regan, " O'Connor said gravely; "I amadmiring her. Conway is doing nobly too. "

"I think he looks almost bewildered, " the girl laughed. "It's a shame, Captain O'Connor. I was standing quite close by when you introducedhim, and I could see by your face that you were playing a joke uponhim. "

"I was performing a kindly action, Miss Regan. The lad's young and alittle bashful, and I ventured to insinuate to your aunt that headmired her. "

"Well, you shall introduce him to me next, " the girl said. "I like hislooks. "

"Shall I tell him that, Miss Regan?"

"If you do I will never speak to you again. "

As soon as the dance was over Captain O'Connor strolled up with hispartner to the spot where Miss Tabitha was fanning herself violently, Ralph standing helplessly alongside. 

"That was a charming dance, Miss Regan. You surpassed yourself. Let merecommend a slight refreshment; will you allow me to offer you my arm?Miss Regan, allow me to introduce my brother-officer, Mr. Conway. "

Ralph, who had not caught the name, bowed to the girl thus leftsuddenly beside him and offered her his arm. 

"Why, you look warm already, Mr. Conway, " she began. 

"Warm is no word for it, " Ralph said bluntly. "Did you see thatwonderful old lady I have been dancing with?"

"That is my aunt, Mr. Conway; but she is rather wonderful all thesame. "

Ralph had thought before that he was as hot as it was possible for aman to be; but he found now that he was mistaken. 

"I beg your pardon, " he stammered. "I did not catch your name; but ofcourse I oughtn't to have said anything. "

"I wonder you didn't see the likeness, " the girl said demurely. "Myaunt considers there is a great likeness between us. "

"I am sure I cannot see it the least bit in the world, " Ralph saidemphatically; "not the smallest. But I hope you forgive me for thatunfortunate remark; but the fact is, I felt a little bewildered at thetime. I am not much of a dancer, and your aunt is really so energeticthat I had to exert myself to the utmost to keep up with her. "

"I think you did admirably, Mr. Conway. We quite admired you both. There, " she said laughing at Ralph's confusion, "you need not beafraid about my not forgiving you for the remark. Everyone knows thatAunt Tabitha and we girls never get on very well together; and shedoes make herself dreadfully ridiculous, and I think it was too bad ofCaptain O'Connor putting you up with her. "

"Thank you, Miss Regan, " Ralph said earnestly. "The fact is I haven'tjoined long, and I don't care much for parties. You see, I have onlyleft school a few months, and haven't got accustomed to talk to ladiesyet; and O'Connor--who is always up to some fun or other--did it justto cure what he calls my shyness. However, I can quite forgive himnow. "

"I don't think you are so very shy, Mr. Conway, " Miss Regan said witha smile. "That last sentence was very pretty, and if I had not hold ofyour arm I should make you a courtesy. "

"No, please don't do that, " Ralph said, coloring hotly. "I didn't meananything, you know. "

"Now, don't spoil it. You meant I suppose, what was quite proper youshould mean, that Captain O'Connor by introducing me to you had madeup for his last delinquency. "

"Yes, that is what I did mean, " Ralph agreed. 

"Captain O'Connor tells me that you have been through all sorts ofadventures, Mr. Conway--been carried off by a French privateer, andtaken to a pirate island, and done all sorts of things. "

"The 'all sorts of things' did not amount to much, Miss Regan. I mademyself as useful as I could, and picked up French; and at last whenthe privateer sailed away I walked down to the shore and met oursailors when they landed. There was, I can assure you, nothing in anyway heroic about the part I had to play. "

"Still it was an adventure. "

"Oh! yes, it was that; and upon the whole I think I liked it, exceptwhen there was a chance of having a fight with our own people. "

"That would have been dreadful. What would you have done?"

"Well, I certainly wouldn't have fought; but what I should have donewould, I suppose, have depended upon circumstances. I suppose I shouldhave jumped overboard if I had the chance. "

"And is it true what Captain O'Connor was saying, that you had to dolike the other pirates on the island?"

"I don't know that there was anything particular they did, except toget drunk, and I didn't do that. "

"He hinted that the rule was that each man had to take a wife from thepeople they captured. "

"What nonsense!" Ralph exclaimed indignantly. "The idea of my taking awife. You mustn't believe what Captain O'Connor says, Miss Regan;except, of course, " he added slyly, "when he is saying pretty thingsto you. "

"I think you will do, Mr. Conway, " the girl laughed, "Six months inIreland and you will be able to give Captain O'Connor points if you goon as well as you are doing. You have paid two very nicely-turnedcompliments in ten minutes. But there, our dance is finished. "

"May I have another later on, Miss Regan?"

"Yes. Let me see; I am engaged for the next five. You can have thesixth if you like, if you haven't secured my aunt for that. "

"You are getting on, Conway, " Captain O'Connor said as they drove awayfrom the Regans. "I have had my eye upon you. Three dances with PollyRegan, beside taking her down to supper. "

"It was too bad of you putting me on to her aunt in that way. "

O'Connor laughed. "It was a capital thing for you, youngster, andpaved the way for you with Polly; who, by the way, is not such arespectful niece as she might be. But she is a very nice little girl. I had thought of making up in that quarter myself, but I see it's nouse now. "

"None at all, " Ralph said seriously. "We are not actually engaged, you, know, but I think we understand each other. "

"What!" Captain O'Connor exclaimed in a changed voice. "You are notsuch a young ass as to get engaged before you have joined threemonths?"

Ralph burst into a laugh. "That's good, " he said. It is not often Iget a rise out of you, O'Connor. "

"Well, you did there fairly, " the captain admitted, joining in thelaugh. "I thought for a moment you were serious. "

"No, " Ralph said. "I may make a fool of myself in other directions;but I don't think I am likely to in that sort of way. "

"Prior attachment--eh?" Captain O'Connor asked quizzically. 

"Ah, that's a secret, O'Connor, " Ralph laughed. "I am not going to laymy heart bare to such a mocker as you are. "

When they reached the village they found a body of twenty men drawn upopposite their quarters. 

"Is that you, O'Connor?" the lieutenant asked as the trap stopped. "Just after you had gone the gauger came in and requested that a partymight accompany him at three o'clock this morning to hunt up a stillamong the hills. I am glad you are back in time, as I did not likegoing away without there being any one in charge here. It's anuisance; for it is just beginning to rain. However, it can't behelped. "

"I will go if you like Desmond, " Ralph said, jumping down. "I shouldlike a good tramp this morning after that hot room. "

"Are you quite sure you would like it?" the lieutenant asked. 

"Quite sure. Beside, it's my turn for duty this morning; so thatreally it's my place to go with them, if Captain O'Connor has noobjection. "

"Not the least in the world, Conway. I don't suppose Desmond has anyfancy for tramping among the hills, and if you have, there is noreason in the world why you should not go. "

A couple of minutes sufficed to exchange the full-dress regimentalsfor undress uniform, covered by military greatcoat, then Ralph hurriedout just as the excise officer came up. 

"We are going to have a damp march of it, Mr. Fitzgibbon, " Ralph said. 

"All the better, sir. There will be a thick mist on the hills thatwill hide us better even than night. There is a moon at present, andas likely as not they will have a boy on watch. Are you ready, sir?"

"Quite ready. Attention! Form fours! March!" and the little partystarted. 

"How far are we going?" Ralph asked the revenue officer. 

"About seven miles, sir. It's about half-past three now; we shall bethere somewhere about six. It does not begin to be light until seven, so there is no particular hurry. "

"I hope you know the way, Mr. Fitzgibbon? It is so dark here I canscarcely see my hand. And if we get into the fog you talk about itwill be as black as ink. "

"Oh, I know the way, " the officer said confidently. "We keep along theroad for two miles, then turn up a track leading up a valley, followthat for three miles; then branch to the right, cross over one or twoslight rises, and then follow another slight depression till we arewithin a hundred yards of the place. I could find my way there with myeyes shut. "

"That sounds easy enough, " Ralph said; "but I know how difficult it isfinding one's way in a fog. However, we must hope we shall get thereall right. Sergeant, have the men got anything in their haversacks?"

"Yes, sir. Captain O'Connor ordered them to take their breakfastration of bread, and he told me to see that their water bottles werefilled; and--" (and here he moved closer up to Ralph, so that heshould not be heard by the men) "he gave me a couple of bottles ofwhisky to mix with the water, and told me to fill the bottles myself, so that the men shouldn't know what was in them till they had theirbreakfast; otherwise there would be none left by the time they wantedto eat their bread. He is always thoughtful the captain is. "

"That's a very good plan, sergeant. I shall bear it in mind myself forthe future. They will want something before they get back after afourteen-mile march. "

The fine mist continued steadily as they tramped along; but the nightseemed to grow darker and darker. They turned off from the road; andas they began to ascend the track along the valley the cloud seemed tosettle round them. The excise officer walked ahead, keeping upon thepath. Ralph followed as closely as he could in his footsteps; butalthough almost touching him he could not make out his figure in thedarkness. 

"Tell the men to follow in single file, sergeant, " he said; "keepingtouch with each other. As long as we are on the beaten track we knowwe are right, but there may be bowlders or anything else close by onone side or the other. "

Marching as closely as they could to each other the party proceeded. 

"How on earth are you going to find the place where we turn off, Mr. Fitzgibbon?" Ralph asked. 

"We shall find it easy enough sir. The path regularly forks, and thereis a pile of stones at the junction, which makes as good a guide asyou can want on a dark night. We can't miss that even on a night likethis. "

Ralph had struck a light with his flint and steel, and looked at hiswatch at the point where they turned off from the road, and he did thesame thing two or three times as they went along. 

"It's an hour and twenty minutes since we turned off, Mr. Fitzgibbon. Even allowing for our stoppages when we have got off the path, weought to be near the turning now. "

"Yes, I fancy we are not far off now, sir. I can feel that we arerising more sharply, and there is a rise in the last hundred yards orso before we reach the place where the road forks. We had better go alittle more slowly now, sir. "

Another five minutes there was a stumble and a fall in front of Ralph. 

"Halt!" he exclaimed sharply. "What is it, Mr. Fitzgibbon?"

"I have fallen over the pile of stones, " the officer said, "and hurtmyself confoundedly. "

"Don't you think we had better halt till daylight?"

"I think we can keep on, sir. The nearer we get there the better; andif we should miss the path we can halt then and wait till daybreak. "

"Well, we can do that, " Ralph agreed. 

"I will go on ahead, sir, twenty or thirty yards at a time and thenspeak, and you can bring the men on to me, then I will go on again. Itwill be slow work, but I can keep the path better if I go at my ownpace. "

Ralph agreed, and they proceeded in this manner for some time. 

"I don't think we are on the track now, " Ralph said at last. 

"Oh, yes, we are, " the officer replied confidently. 

Ralph stooped and felt the ground. "The grass is very short, " heobserved, "but it is grass. "

The officer followed his example. 

"Oh, it is only a track now, " he said. "Just a footpath, and the grassis not worn off. I am convinced we are right. "

"Well, " Ralph said, "just go a little way to the right and left, andsee if the grass gets longer. It seems to me all the same. "

The officer did so, and was obliged to own that he could not perceiveany difference. Ralph now spread his men out in a line and directedthem to feel on the ground to see if they could discover the track. They failed to do so, and Ralph then ordered them together again. 

"We will halt here, sergeant, till daylight. It's no use groping aboutin the dark. For anything we know we may be going exactly in the wrongdirection. The men can of course sit down if they like; and they mayas well eat a piece of bread and try their water-bottles. But tellthem not to eat more than half their ration. We may be longer beforewe get out of this than we expect. "

The order was given, the men piled their arms and seated themselves onthe short turf. Presently Ralph heard a sudden exclamation of surpriseand satisfaction as one of the men tasted the contents of hiswater-bottle, and in a minute there was a buzz of talk. Before scarcea word had been spoken; the men had been marching in a sort of sulkysilence, disgusted at being taken from their beds for work theydisliked, and at their long march through the damp night air; buttheir satisfaction at this unexpected comfort loosened their tongues. 

Pipes were produced and lighted, and the discomfort of the situationaltogether forgotten. Desmond had handed to Ralph the flask and packetof sandwiches he had prepared for himself, and he, too, felt lessstrongly the chilling effects of the damp and darkness after partakingof them. The excise officer had also made his preparations. 

"We should be more certain as to our whereabouts if we had stopped atthat heap of stones as I proposed, Mr. Fitzgibbon. "

"I don't deny, sir, you were right as it has turned out; only Iwouldn't have believed that I could have missed the path, and I didwant to get close to the place before we were observed. I knew that wecouldn't actually surprise them till morning; for the hut lies somedistance in a bog, and there would be no crossing it unless we couldsee. Still if we could have got to the edge without the alarm beinggiven, they would not have time to hide the things before we reachedthem. I have ridden across this place many a time after dark, andnever missed my way. "

"That was the sagacity of your horse more than your own, I expect, "Ralph said. "A horse can find his way along a path he has oncetraveled better than any man can do. In the first place, I think hecan see better in the night; and in the second, he has some sort ofinstinct to guide him. However, I don't suppose it much matters; weshall find the path easily enough in the morning. And, as you said, the mist will hide our movements quite as effectually as the darknesswould do. "

At last the morning began to break in a dim misty light, and as itgrew stronger they were able to perceive how dense was the fog thatsurrounded them. At three paces distant they were invisible to eachother. 

"It does not seem to me that we are much better off than we werebefore, so far as finding the path lies. What do you think?"

"It looks bad, certainly, " the officer admitted reluctantly. "I amawfully sorry I have led you into this mess. "

"It can't be helped, " Ralph said. "We must make the best of matters. At any rate it's better than it was, and the mist is not nearly asheavy as when we were marching up that valley. "

CHAPTER XI. 

STILL-HUNTING. 

"Now, sergeant, the men may as well fall in, " Ralph said cheerfully, "and then we will set about finding this path. On which side do youthink it is most likely to lie, Mr. Fitzgibbon?"

"I really can't give an opinion, sir. You see there is not a breath ofwind to help us, and in this sort of light there is no telling wherethe sun is, so I don't know at the present moment which way we arefacing. "

"Well, we will try to the right first, sergeant, " Ralph said. "I willlead the way. Let the men follow at a distance of about ten pacesapart. I will keep on speaking. Do you stand at the left of the file, and when the last man has gone ten paces from you pass the word along. By that time I shall be about two hundred yards away. If I have notfound the path then we will come back to you and do the same thing onthe left. If we don't light upon the path itself we may come upon somerise or bog or something that will enable Mr. Fitzgibbon to form anidea as to where we are. "

This was done, but beyond finding that the ground on the right washigher than that on the left no index as to their position wasdiscovered. 

"You see, Mr. Fitzgibbon, we are on sloping ground rising to theright. Now, does that help you at all?"

"Not much sir. The country here is all undulating. "

"Very well, then, we must try a march forward. Now, sergeant, placethe men five paces apart. Do you put yourself in the center. I willmove on three yards ahead of you. I shall go as straight forward as Ican, but if you think I am inclining either to the right or left yousay so. The fact that the ground is sloping ought to be a help to usto keep straight. I wish it sloped a little more, then one would beable to tell directly whether one was keeping straight. Let the menspeak to each other every few paces so as to keep the right distancesapart. "

Mr. Fitzgibbon placed himself by Ralph's side, and they started. Forhalf an hour they kept on, then Ralph cried, "Halt. I am certain I amgoing downhill, it may be because I have changed my direction, or itmay be because there is a change in the lay of the ground. What do youthink?"

"It's impossible to say, " Mr. Fitzgibbon replied. "It seems to me thatwe have been going straight, but when one can't see a yard before oneone may have turned any direction. "

"How long do you think that this rascally fog is likely to last?"

"It may clear up as the sun gets high, sir, but I must acknowledgethat it may last for days. There is never any saying among thesehills. "

"Well, at any rate you must give up all idea of making a raid on thisstill, Mr. Fitzgibbon. That has become a secondary object altogethernow. What we have to do is to find our way out of this. Hitherto Ihave tried what we could do in silence. Now I shall give that up. Now, sergeant, get the men together again. I will go ahead, and shall, if Ican, keep on descending. If one does that one must get out of thesehills at last. When I get about fifty yards I will shout. Then yousend a man on to me. When he reaches me I will shout again and go onanother fifty yards. When I shout send another man forward. When hegets to the first man the first man is to shout and then come on tome, and you send off another. In that way we shall make a regular linefifty yards apart, and I don't think any one can get lost. Should anyone get confused and stray, which he can't do if he keeps his head, hemust shout till he hears his shouts answered. After a time if hedoesn't hear any answer he must fire his gun, and we must answer tillhe rejoins us. But if my orders are observed I do not see how any onecan miss their way, as there will be posts stationed every fiftyyards. You remain till the last and see them all before you. You quiteunderstand? When each man comes up to the one in front of him he is tostop until the next man joins him, and then move on to the man ahead. "

"I understand, sir. "

"They must not be in a hurry, sergeant; because moving ahead as Ishall, I shall have to move to the right or left sometimes so as tomake as sure as I can that I am still going down. Now, Mr. Fitzgibbon, if you keep with me, between us we ought to find the road. "

The plan seemed a good one, but it was difficult to follow. The fallof the ground was so slight that Ralph and the officer often differedas to whether they were going up or down, and it was only byseparating and taking short runs right and left, forward or backward, that they arrived at any conclusion, and even then often doubtedwhether they were right. The shouting as the long line proceeded wasprodigious, and must have astonished any stray animals that might havebeen grazing among the hills. So bewildering was the fog that the mensometimes went back to the men behind them instead of forward to themen in front, and long pauses were necessitated before they got rightagain. Ralph, finding the cause of the delays, passed the word downfor the first man to keep on shouting "number one, " the second "numbertwo, " and so on, and this facilitated matters. The line of shoutingmen had at least the advantage that it enabled Ralph to keep a fairlystraight course, as the sound of voices told him if he was deviatingmuch to the right or left. 

"We may not be going right, " he said to his companion, "but at leastwe have the satisfaction of knowing that we are not moving in acircle. "

After some hours' marching Ralph, to his great delight, came upon ahill rill of water. 

"Thank goodness, " he said, "we have got a guide at last. If we followthis we must get somewhere. We need not go on in this tedious way, butwill halt here till all the men come up. "

It was half an hour before the sergeant arrived. 

"We have got a guide now, sergeant, and can push on. I suppose youhave no idea what stream this is, Mr. Fitzgibbon?"

"Not at present, " the officer admitted. "There are scores of theselittle rills about. They make their way down from the bogs at the topof the hills, and there is nothing to distinguish one from the other. "

They now tramped on briskly, keeping close to the little stream. Sometimes the ground became soft and marshy, and it was difficult tofollow its course; but they went straight on and after three morehours' marching came upon a road that crossed the stream over a littleculvert. There was a cheer from the tired men as they stood on hardground again. 

"Now, the question is shall we turn to the right or the left, for wehave not the faintest idea as to the points of the compass. What doyou say, Mr. Fitzgibbon?"

"I should say that it is an even chance; but at any rate whichever waywe go we are sure to come in time upon a hut or village, and be ableto find out where we are. "

"Very well, then; we will take the right, " Ralph said. "Form fours, sergeant. We shall get on better by keeping in step. Now, sergeant, ifany of the men can sing let him strike up a tune with a chorus. Thatwill help us along. "

There was a little hesitation, and then one of the men struck up asong, and with renewed life and energy they all marched along. It wasnearly an hour before they heard the welcome sound of voices close by. Ralph halted his men and proceeded toward this sound, and thendiscovered what the fog had prevented them from seeing before, thatthey were passing through a village, the voices being those of somewomen who were brought to their doors by the sound of music, and whowere somewhat puzzled at the, to them, mysterious sounds. "

"What place is this?" Ralph asked. 

"It is Kilmaknocket. "

"Bless me!" Mr. Fitzgibbon exclaimed, "we are twenty miles away fromBallyporrit if we are an inch. "

"Then it's evident we can't get there to-day, " Ralph said. "We musthave come more than that distance since we halted in the night. Now, my good woman, I have a party of twenty men here, and we have lost ourway in the hills, and must stop here for the night. How many housesare there in the village?"

"There are ten or twelve, sir. "

"That is all right, then. We must quarter two men on each. I will payevery one for the trouble it will give, and for something to eat, which we want badly enough, for we have come at least twenty-five ortwenty-six miles, and probably ten more than that, and have hadnothing but a bit of bread since we started. "

"It's heartily welcome you will be, sir, " the woman said, "and we willall do the best we can for you. "

The men were now ordered to fall out. The sergeant proceeded with themthrough the village, quartering two men on each house, while Ralphwent round to see what provisions were obtainable. Potatoes and blackbread were to be had everywhere, and he also was able to buy agood-sized pig, which, in a very few minutes, was killed and cut up. 

"We have reason to consider ourselves lucky indeed, " Ralph said, as hesat down with the excise officer half an hour later to a meal ofboiled potatoes and pork chops roasted over a peat fire. "It'shalf-past four now, and will be pitch dark in another half-hour. If wehad not struck upon that stream we should have had another night outamong the hills. "

Ralph's first measure after seeing his men quartered in the villagewas to inquire for a boy who would carry a message to Ballyporrit, andthe offer of half a crown produced four or five lads willing toundertake it. Ralph chose one of them, an active-looking lad of aboutfifteen, tore out a leaf from his pocketbook, and wrote an account ofwhat had happened, and said that the detachment would be in by twoo'clock on the following day. Then directing it to Captain O'Connor orLieutenant Desmond, whichever might be in the village, he gave it tothe lad, who at once started at a trot along the road in the directionfrom which they had come. 

"He will be there in four hours, " Mr. Fitzgibbon said. "It's a regularroad all the way, and he can't miss it even in the dark. It's lucky weturned the way we did, for although it was taking us further from homeit was but two miles along the road here, while, if we had gone theright way, it would have been six or seven before we arrived at thenext village. "

"I think we are lucky all round, " Ralph said. "An hour ago if any onetold us we were going to sit down at half-past four to a hot dinner ofpork and potatoes we should have slain him as a scoffer. It would haveseemed altogether too good to be true. "

Ralph had no difficulty in purchasing whisky, and be ordered thesergeant to serve out a tot to each man with his dinner and anotherhalf an hour later, and by seven o'clock there was scarcely one of thetired men who was not already asleep. The next morning they started ateight o'clock, having had a breakfast of potatoes before they fell in. Ralph rewarded the peasants generously for their hospitality, and themen set off in high spirits for their tramp, and reached Ballyporritat half-past two in the afternoon. 

"You gave us a nice scare yesterday, Conway, " was Captain O'Connor'sgreeting as they marched in. "When twelve o'clock came and you didn'tcome back I began to think you must have lost yourselves; and a nicetime we had of it till your messenger arrived at eight. It was no usesending out to look for you on the hills. But I went out with a party, with two or three men to guide us, to the end of a valley, up which apath went; beyond that there was no going, for one couldn't see one'shand. I stayed there an hour, firing off guns once a minute, and asthere was no reply was sure that you must be a good distance off, wherever you were; so there was nothing to do but to come back andhope you had found shelter somewhere. Come in, lad; I have got somehot lunch waiting for you. Come in, Mr. Fitzgibbon. It's lucky Ididn't catch you yesterday, or I should have considered it my duty tohave hung you forthwith for decoying his majesty's troops among thehills. "

"Well, Conway, you didn't bargain for all this when you offered tochange places with me, " Lieutenant Desmond said when they were seatedat table. 

"No; but now it's all over I am glad I did change, in spite of thetramp we had. It has been an adventure, and beside, it was a goodthing to learn how best to get out of a fog. "

"How did you manage, Conway?" Captain O'Connor asked; "for once lostin such a fog as that on those hills there really does not seemanything to be done. "

Ralph related the various steps he had taken, and how, eventually, they had come upon running water and followed it down to a road. 

"Well, I really think you have done remarkably well, youngster. Ishouldn't be surprised if we have some more tramps before us, for Ihad a letter this morning from the colonel saying that the fellowknown as the red Captain, a notorious scoundrel who has been with hisgang committing all sorts of atrocities in Galway, has made the placetoo hot for him at last, and is reported to have made his way down tothe south coast, somewhere in this direction; and we are ordered tokeep a sharp lookout for him. He is an unmitigated ruffian, and adesperate one. He has shot several constables who have tried tocapture him, and as he has three or four men with him nearly as bad ashimself I expect we shall have some trouble with him. There has been areward of a hundred pounds for his capture for a long time, but so farwithout success. One man, whom he suspected rightly or wrongly ofintending to betray him, he killed by fastening the door of hiscottage and then setting the thatch alight; and the man, his wife, andfour children were burned to death. "

That evening, just as dinner was over, the sergeant came in and saidthat a woman wished to speak to the captain. 

"What does she want, sergeant?"

"She won't say what she wants, sir; only that she wishes to speak toyou privately. "

"Show her in then, sergeant. "

The sergeant brought in the woman and then retired. As soon as thedoor closed behind him the woman threw back the shawl which hadhitherto almost covered her face. She was about twenty-five years old, and strikingly pretty. 

"What can I do for you?" Captain O'Connor asked. "The sergeant saysyou wish to speak to me on some particular business. "

"Yes, sir; sure, and it is very particular business. "

"You don't wish to speak to me quite alone, I suppose?" O'Connorasked, seeing that she hesitated. 

"No, your honor; seeing that these gentlemen are all officers there isno reason in life why they should not hear what I have to say. But, sure, sir, it's little my life would be worth if it were known outsidethese walls that I had been here. My name is Bridget Moore, sir, and Ibelong to County Galway. Well, your honor, there was a desperatevillain, they call the Red Captain, there. He was hiding in the hillsfor some time near the little farm my husband holds. We did not knowwho he was--how should we? but thought he was hiding because therevenue officers were after him on account of a bit of a still orsomething of that kind; but we found out one day, when he had beentaking too much of the cratur and was talking big like, that he wasthe Red Captain. 

"My Denis was troubled in his mind over it. Av coorse he was not oneto inform, but he had heard so much of the Red Captain and his doingsthat he was onaisy at the thought of having him as a neighbor. Hewasn't one to pretind to be frindly when he wasn't, and the captainnoticed it and took offince, and there were mighty high words betweenthem. One night, your honor, he and his gang came down and broke inthe door, and tould Denis he was a black-hearted informer, Denis saidit was a lie, and they were nigh shooting him, but at last they saidhe should have the choice either of joining them or of being shot; andDenis, being druv to it, and seeing no other way to save his life, wasforced to agree. Then the villains made him kneel down and take agreat oath to be faithful and secret. 

"I was away off; for I had caught up the child and run out by the backdoor when they came in, but I crept round to a broken window therewas, so that I could hear what was said. When they took him away widthem and went off, I followed at a distance, for I wasn't sure whetherafter all they didn't mean to murther him. But they went up to the hutwhere they lived at the edge of the bog, and as they seemed morefriendly like I went back to see after the child, who was left allalone. The next morning I took it over to a neighbor and asked her tokeep it till I came back. Then I went up to the hut again and found itwas empty. 

"A day or two after that I found out from a man who run a still, andknew the Red Captain well, that he had made up his mind to lave Galwayand come down south, where he had some friends; so I just shut up thehouse and walked down here. Now you know, your honor, that I don'tcome here for the sake of the reward. Not a penny of it would I touchif I were dying of hunger, and sooner than be pointed at as aninformer I would throw myself over them big rocks. But they have gotDenis, and either they will make him as bad as themselves--which Idon't think--or they will shoot him; and if they don't shoot him hewill be shot one of these days by the soldiers. What I want you topromise, your honor, is, that if I point out where you can lay yourhands on the villains, you won't say who tould you, and that you willtell your soldiers not to shoot Denis. 

"You will know him aisy enough, your honor, for he is a dacent-lookingboy; and when the time comes you will find he will do what he can tohelp you. I found out who the people were that the Red Captain hadcome down to, and I watched and watched their place, till one day Isaw him come there. Then I followed him and found out whereabout theywere hiding. I kept about till, that evening, I had a chance ofspaking to Denis for a minute. He is broken-hearted, your honor, buthe daren't lave them. He said they had sworn if he ever tried to runaway they would hunt him down; and the Red Captain said that he wouldsend information to the poliss that it was Denis who helped him firethe hut when those poor cratures were burned, and would say, he hadbeen in the thick of it all along; and how could he prove the differ?So he daren't for the life of him move, your honor; and tould me tokeep away and go home, for I could do him no good, and if they caughtme spaking to him they would kill the two of us. "

"I promise you willingly, " Captain O'Connor said, "I will not say whopointed out their hiding-place, and if your husband does not join inthe resistance he certainly shall receive no hurt. If he is caughtwith them I am afraid that I shall be exceeding my duty in letting himgo; but surely he would have no difficulty in proving that he had onlyaccompanied them in consequence of their threats. "

"That's what he couldn't prove, sir. That's just what they tould him:if they were caught themselves they knew there was no chance for them, and they would all swear together that he had been with them allalong; and how could the boy prove that he wasn't?"

"Well, Mrs. Moore, I will try and strain a point, " Captain O'Connorsaid. "You see, people sometimes escape after they are taken, and Ithink we shall be able to manage somehow that Denis shan't appear atthe bar with the others; and if it should turn out that cannot bemanaged I will engage to make such representations to the authoritiesthat your husband shall get off free. "

"Very well, sir; then I will tell you where they are to be found. Ican't take you there, your honor, but I can tell you whereabout it is. There is a footpath turns oft from the road at the end of the village, and goes straight down to the top of them big rocks that come out ofthe sea. Well, sir, a few hundred yards to the right of that there isa sort of break in the rocks, and there is a track goes down there. You won't see it onless you look close for it, and it gets lost alittle way down, becase the rocks are all broken about and heaped oneach other. It's down there they go. There's always a man on watch notfar from the top; and there is generally a gossoon from their friendshere somewhere at the edge of the bog behind, who would run forwardand tell the man on watch if he saw any soldiers coming from here. Soyou will have to be mighty careful; but they are down there, sureenough, somewhere. 

"Denis tould me there was no chance of their being taken, for theyhave got a little boat hid away down among the rocks by the water, andif the alarm was given they would make off in that. I can't tell youany more than that, you honor; but I should think that may be enoughto help you to find them. "

"I should think so too, Mrs. Moore. And what do you propose doingyourself?"

"I shall go off, sir, at once. Folk have been wondering at me, andasking where I came from and what I was doing here, and I want to getaway. If it came to the Red Captain's ears there was a woman about hemight guess it was me, and if he did he would like enough shoot Denisand make away. I can't see as I can do any good by stopping, and I maydo harm; so I will go over to Dunmanway and stop there till I hearwhat your honor has done. If I find Denis has got hurted I shall comeback, if not I shall go home to the farm. Maybe your honor will tellhim I shall be expecting him there. "

Captain O'Connor accompanied her outside to see that no one spoke toher, and when he saw her disappear in the darkness he returned to theroom. 

"I think you have had a lucky escape, Conway, " he said as he entered. "The matter is explained now about your being watched and questioned, and it is very lucky that they did not quite make up their minds youwere a spy; for if they had you may be sure they would have had nomore hesitation in putting an ounce of lead into you, and throwing youover the cliff, than they would in shooting a sparrow. Well, this isan important piece of news. The authorities have for a long time beentrying to lay their hands on this scoundrel and his gang, and if wecan catch him it will be a feather in our caps, for he has defied alltheir efforts for the last three years. Now, we must arrange the lineof battle, how it is to come off, and when. 

"In the first place we must arrange with the coast-guard to have awell-manned boat somewhere along the coast to cut the scoundrels offif they try to escape by sea. The attack must be made by daylight, that is evident, for half the men would break either their legs ortheir necks if they tried to get down in the dark. I think it will bebest to place half the company along the top of the cliffs, postingtwo or three men at every point where it looks possible that they mayascend, then with the other half we will go down on this track shespeaks of and search the whole place thoroughly. If they are there wemust find them sooner or later; and find them we will, if the searchtakes us a week. "

"Who is this Red Captain?"

"I believe his real name is Dan Egan. He was mixed up in some brutaloutrage on an inoffensive farmer, had to leave the county, went toDublin, and enlisted. He went out to Spain with his regiment, wasflogged twice for thieving, then he shot an officer who came upon himwhen he was ill-treating a Portuguese peasant; he got away at thetime, and it was months before he was heard of again. It was thoughtthat he had deserted to the French, but I suppose he got down to aport somewhere in disguise and shipped on board a vessel for England. The next thing heard of him was that he was back again at his nativeplace. The police here were of course ignorant as to what had becomeof him from the time he disappeared; but the fellow made no secret ofwhat he had been doing, and boasted of having shot the officer. 

"The regiment was communicated with, and by a comparison of the dateof enlistment and the personal description there was no doubt that theman who had enlisted as Mark Kelly was Dan Egan. Of course everyeffort was made to capture him, but in vain. I believe the peasantswould have informed against him, for he was hated for his violence andoverbearing way, but he soon established a sort of terror in thedistrict. He was joined by three or four of the greatest ruffians inCounty Galway, and unless the whole of these had been captured at oneswoop, vengeance would be sure to fall upon whoever had betrayed him. 

"He has killed four or five police officers at various times, and Ishould say twice as many peasants who have ventured to offend him. Heand his band levied a sort of blackmail in the district, and woebetide the small farmer who refused to send in a sheep or a bag ofmeal once a month. Their cattle were killed and their ricks set onfire; and so in a short time he had the whole neighborhood under histhumb. Whenever a party went in pursuit of him he was sure to obtainearly information. Not from love, but from fear; for it was a wellunderstood thing that any one seeing a body of police and failing tosend instant word would suffer for it. 

"Just as we left I heard that a company of foot and a troop of cavalrywere to be sent from Galway to search every hut and hiding-place inthe district, and I suppose that it was this that drove him down here. He has red hair and beard; and it is this partly, and partly no doubtthe fellow's murderous character, that has gained him the name of theRed Captain. He is a prize worth taking, and if we can lay hands onhim and his band together we shall have done better work than if wehad unearthed a hundred illicit stills. At any rate we will lose notime. I will write a letter at once to the revenue officer at thecoast-guard station. I shall mention no names, but say that we hope tomake an important capture to-morrow morning on the cliffs here, andasking him to send a well-armed boat at daylight, with instructions tostop and arrest any boat that may put out from the shore. If therevenue cutter happens to be lying off his station, or within reach ofa messenger, I will tell him to have her off the shore if possible. "

Captain O'Connor at once wrote the letter. "Sergeant Morris, " he said, when the non-commissioned officer came in, "I want you to take thisletter yourself to Lieutenant Adcock at the coast-guard station in thecove three miles along to the east. It is of the highest importance. Iwant you to see the officer yourself and obtain an answer from him. Take a man with you, and carry your side-arms. Don't go along thecliff, but keep to the road till you come to the lane that leadsdirect to the village in the cove. Just tell the landlord to comehere, will you?"

"Landlord, " he said, when the host appeared, "I want you to lend acouple of long greatcoats and two hats or caps of any kind. I amsending two of my men off on a mission, and I don't want them to benoticed. It does not matter how old the coats are so that they arelong. "

"I will get them your honor. I have one that will do, and will borrowthe other for you in no time. "

"You see, sergeant, I don't want your presence in the village to benoticed. You know how these fellows hang together. The sight of twosoldiers in uniform there would be sure to attract attention. Choose aman you can rely on to play his part cleverly. I tell you to take yourside-arms, because I happen to know that there are men about who, ifthey suspected your mission, would not have the least hesitation inknocking you on the head. This is no question of finding a still, sergeant, but of making the capture of one of the most desperate bandsin the country; and it is well worth taking the utmost pains andprecaution to insure everything going well. "

"I understand, sir. I will take Pat Hogan with me; he has plenty ofthe brogue, and can talk the language too. So if any one should speakto us as we go along he can do the talking, and no one will suspectthat we are not a couple of countrymen. "

"That will do very well, sergeant. It is just seven o'clock now. IfLieutenant Adcock is in when you get there you ought to be back, well, before ten. It's about four miles by road. I would borrow a couple ofheavy sticks if I were you. I don't think it at all likely there willbe any occasion to use them, but it is just as well to be prepared. If, when you get near the village, or on your way back, you comeacross any one who questions you inquisitively, and seems to you to bea suspicious character, I authorize you to make him prisoner and bringhim over with you. Knock him down if he attempt resistance. You may aswell take a pair of handcuffs with you and a short coil of rope. Theobject of the rope is, that if you capture any one on your way to thevillage you had better handcuff him, gag him, and tie him up securelyto a tree or some other object at a distance from the road, and pickhim up as you come back. I need hardly say that you are not to go intoany house in the village, not to speak to any one beyond what isabsolutely necessary. "

"I understand, sir, and you can rely upon me to carry out yourorders. "

"You had better fetch Hogan in here, sergeant. Tell him what he has todo before you bring him in, then we can see the disguises on you both;and it's better for you to start from an inn, where people are goingin and out, than from one of the houses where you are quartered. "

The landlord returned with the disguises almost immediately after thesergeant had gone out, and in a few minutes the latter came in withHogan. The greatcoats were put on, the hats substituted for militarycaps, and with the collars of the coats turned up and the addition oftwo heavy sticks, the disguise was complete, and the two smartsoldiers would pass anywhere as peasants. 

"You had better take your gaiters off, sergeant. You look too neatabout the feet; although that would not be noticed unless you wentinto the light. Here is the letter, put it carefully inside yourjacket. There, now, I think you will do. "

It was nearly ten when the two soldiers returned. "Here's a lettersir, from the revenue officer. He quite understands what is wanted, and will have a boat off the cliffs at daybreak with a well-armedcrew. He does not know where the cutter is at present. She touchedthere two days ago, sailing west. "

"You met no suspicious characters, sergeant?"

"No, sir. We spoke to no one until we got to the village, beyondasking a woman which was the turning from the main road. There didn'tseem to be a soul about in the village, and we had to wait about sometime before I could get hold of a boy to tell me which was the revenueofficer's cottage. I left Hogan outside when I went in; but he saw noone, nor did any one speak to us on our return beyond one or two menwe met passing the time of night, which Hogan answered. "

"All the better, sergeant. The great object is secrecy. Now, leavethese things here and put on your caps again. If you go to the bar thelandlord has orders to give you a glass of grog each. Don't say a wordas to where you have been, Hogan, but get back to your quarters. Whenyou have had your grog, sergeant, look in again before you go. "

When the men had gone out Captain O'Connor opened the letter, whichmerely confirmed what the sergeant said. When Sergeant Morris returnedCaptain O'Connor told him that the company were to parade an hourbefore daylight. 

"Don't give the order to-night, sergeant; but go round from house tohouse yourself in the morning, rouse the men, and tell them to fall inquietly without beat of drum. 

"Everything is going on well, boys, " he said when the sergeant hadleft, "and I think we have a good chance of laying these scoundrels bythe heels to-morrow. However, we must insure that word is not sentfrom the village, when the troops begin to get up. A stir an hourbefore the usual time is sure to excite remark, and as it is certainthese fellows will have arranged with some one in the village forearly news of any unusual movement, we must take steps to prevent amessenger passing. I propose that you two shall be astir half an hourbefore the troops; and that you shall, before any one else is moving, go along the path leading to the cliffs, stop a couple of hundredyards beyond the village, and arrest any one who may come along. "

"Yes, I think that will be a very good plan, " Lieutenant Desmond said. "No one shall pass us, I warrant. "

"Don't forget to take your pistols; it is likely enough you may haveto use them before the day is over. These scoundrels know they fightwith ropes round their necks, and are almost sure to resistdesperately. Now we will have one glass more, and then be off to bed. The day will begin to break about seven, and I will impress upon thelandlord the urgent necessity of calling you both by five. "

"I suppose we are to stay where we take up our station till you comealong with the company, O'Connor, whether we take any prisoners ornot?"

"Yes, that will be the best way, Desmond. If you have caught any one Iwill send them back with a guard to the village. No, it would not dofor you to move before we come up, for there is no saying what time amessenger will go along. They may not take the alarm until just as weare starting, or even until they see which road we are taking. By theway, you may as well take that pair of handcuffs the sergeant has lefton the table with you, otherwise if you do get a prisoner you wouldhave to keep your hands on his collar, or he might make a bolt anymoment. There is nothing like being on the safe side. 

"You had better take up your post at some place where your figureswill not be seen by any one coming along the road till he is close toyou, or instead of coming straight along he might make a bolt round;and some of these fellows can run like hares. We must not let thesmallest chance escape us. If we succeed in the affair we shall get noend of credit, beside the satisfaction of freeing the country of asdesperate a band of ruffians as any that infest it, and that's sayinga good deal. Now, here's success to our work to-morrow. " O'Connordrained his glass and placed it on the table, and then rising andtaking up his sword made his way to his room, his companions at oncefollowing his example. 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE CAVE AMONG THE ROCKS. 

At five o'clock on the following morning Ralph was roused by thelandlord, who brought him a candle; he lost no time in dressing, buckled on his sword, looked to the priming of the double-barreledpistols Mr. Penfold had given him, and placed them in his belt. Thenhe went downstairs and put the handcuffs into the pocket of his greatcoat. He then went to the bar, where the landlord was kindling a fire. 

"I want a bottle of whisky, landlord, a loaf of bread, and a big lumpof cheese. " As he was waiting for these, Lieutenant Desmond joinedhim. 

"That's right, Conway, there is nothing like laying in a stock ofcreature comforts when you have the chance. Look here, landlord, getan empty bottle and put half the whisky in, and then fill them both upwith water. Cut that loaf of bread in halves; in that way we can getit in our pockets. That's right; now do the same with the cheese. Youand I may not be together, Conway, so it's just as well to divide thecommissariat; to say nothing of the convenience of carriage. Now, haveyou got the handcuffs? That's right, we will be off at once. "

The landlord went to the door with them and looked after them, somewhat surprised at seeing no soldiers about. 

"What can they be up to by themselves at this hour of the morning?" hesaid to himself. "Well, they are two nice young fellows anyway, and Ihope that they are not going to get into mischief. Now I will justmake up the fire, and then sit down for an hour's snooze in myarm-chair. The captain said he was to be called at six. I suppose theyare going out still-hunting somewhere. Well, I wish them luck; forwhen the boys can get their whisky for next to nothing they don't careabout coming here, and small blame to them, for I shouldn't myself. "

Not a soul was astir in the village as the two young officers passedalong. They turned off at the lane leading to the sea, and afterproceeding a quarter of a mile came to a point where the roadwayended, the path beyond this being merely a track. Here there was agate across the lane, and a wall running right and left. 

"We can't find a better spot than this, Conway, " Lieutenant Desmondsaid. "If we sit down one on each side against the wall, a hundred menmight pass along without noticing us. "

"Which side shall we sit, Desmond?"

"We will sit this side, " the lieutenant replied. "If we were the otherside a man might possibly wrench himself way from our grasp, and mightoutrun us, but on this side of the gate he couldn't do so; for even ifhe did break away he would have to run back toward the village, thegate would stop his going the other way. "

Accordingly the young officers took their posts against the wall, oneon either side of the gate, and with their swords drawn awaited thecoming of a messenger to the Red Captain. 

"There is no chance of any one being here for another twenty minutes, "Desmond said. "The sergeant will not rouse the men up till a quarterto six, therefore no one is likely to come along until within a fewminutes of the hour. It's precious cold here, though the wall doesshelter us from the wind a bit; still it's not a lively job having towait here half an hour, with the thermometer somewhere below freezingpoint. "

The time passed slowly. Occasionally they exchanged a few words in lowtones, but as the time approached when they knew that the sergeantwould be going his rounds to call the men they spoke less. 

"It must be nearly six o'clock now, " Desmond said at last. "The menwould be called at a quarter to, so if any one is coming he will mostlikely be here in a few minutes. Hush! I think I can hear footsteps. "

A few seconds later they dimly saw a figure running toward them atfull speed. As it dashed up to the gate they sprang out and seized it. There was a sharp frightened cry. 

"Don't make a noise, " Desmond said sternly, "or it will be the worsefor you. Where were you going?"

It was a girl of about twelve years old whom they had captured. Shewas silent a moment. 

"Sure, your honor, " she said in a whimper, "I was doing no harm. I wasonly running to tell Mike Brenan that his ould mother is taken badwith the cramps, and wanted to see him bad. "

"Where do you expect to go to, you little liar?" Desmond asked. "Weknow what you are up to. You were running to tell some one that thesoldiers were getting up. Now, if you are quiet and keep still no harmwill come to you; but if you try to scream or to get away we shallhand you over to the police, and there's no saying whether they maynot make it a hanging matter for aiding the king's enemies. "

"I suppose we needn't fasten her?" Ralph said. 

"Not fasten her! Why, she is as slippery as a young eel, and if youtake your hand off her for a moment she would be off like a hare. No, no, we must make her safe. Beside, " he whispered in Ralph's ear, "shewould scream to a certainty if she saw any one else coming, then theymight strike off and get round us. No, no, we can't run any risks;there is too much depends on it. Now just sit down there, young woman, by the wall. We are not going to hurt you, but you have got to keepquiet. Now put your feet together. " Desmond took out his pockethandkerchief and folded it, and tied the girl's ankles firmlytogether. "Now then, Ralph, do the same with her wrists. That's rightnow. Wrap that shawl of hers three or four times tightly round hermouth. That's it; let her breathe through her nose. Now you keep asharp watch over her, and see she doesn't wriggle out of these things. If you see any one coming clap your hand over her mouth, and see shedoesn't make a sound. When he comes up you can let go and help me ifnecessary; it won't matter her giving a bit of a scream then. "

"Now, " he went on, this time speaking aloud, "if that girl makes theleast noise, run her through with your sword at once. Don't hesitate amoment. "

"Very well, " Ralph said in the same tones. "I will silence her, neverfear. "

Ralph sat down close to the girl and watched her sharply. They hadfixed the shawl as well as they could, but he felt sure that by asudden effort she could free her mouth sufficiently to scream. She satperfectly still; but in about three minutes he saw her suddenly throwher head back, and in an instant he clapped his hand over her mouth. She struggled violently in spite of her bonds, and tried to bite; butwith the other arm he held her head firmly, and succeeded inpreventing the slightest sound escaping her. Then he glanced up thepath. As he had expected the girl's quick ear had heard approachingfootsteps that were inaudible to him. A figure was bounding rapidlytoward them. As it reached the gate Desmond sprang upon it. There wasa sharp scuffle for a moment. 

"All right, Conway. I have got him. "

It was a lad of some fifteen years old this time. He struggledfuriously till Desmond placed a pistol against his head, and told himthat he would blow his brains out if he was not quiet, and taking outthe handcuffs fastened them on to his ankles. 

"There is no fear of his doing any running now. Just come and sit downby this wall, my lad, and remember if you make the slightest sound Iwill run my sword through your body. "

The lad shuffled to the wall and sat down. Ralph released his grasp ofthe girl. 

"This is a regular young wildcat, Desmond. She very nearly got my handin her mouth, and if she had she would have bitten a piece out. Well, I shouldn't think there will be any more of them. "

"No, I should think not. They would scarcely send off more than twomessengers. However, we must still keep a sharp lookout. "

But no one else came along, and in a quarter of an hour they heard thedeep tramp of a body of men approaching, and Captain O'Connor sooncame up at the head of the company. 

"Well, any news, gentlemen?" he asked as the two young officersstepped out. 

"Yes, Captain O'Connor. We have two prisoners--a girl and a boy. Theycame along about ten minutes apart, both running at full speed andevidently going with messages. We put the handcuffs on the boy'sankles, and tied the girl's with our handkerchiefs. "

"Sergeant, tell off two men and let them take these prisoners back tothe village, and guard them carefully till we return. They may as wellkeep the handcuffs on the boy's ankles, and untie the girl's; but letone of them keep a tight hold of her arm, and be sure that she doesn'tslip away. "

Two men were told off for the duty, and the march was then resumed. Daylight was faintly breaking when they reached the edge of the cliff. Ralph, with ten men, was posted at the spot where a slight track wasvisible going down into a sort of gulley. Captain O'Connor thenproceeded with half the company to the right, Desmond taking theremainder to the left; each posting men at intervals along the edge ofthe cliff, and placing parties of four at every point where thereappeared the smallest probability of an ascent being practicable. 

All were ordered to load at once. They were to make prisoner any onecoming up the cliff, and in case of resistance to fire withouthesitation. The two officers then returned to the spot where they hadleft Ralph. It was now nearly broad daylight. Leaving the soldiersthey went a short distance to a point where the rocks fell awayprecipitately, and from here had a clear view of the face of thecliffs. 

"We had better wait here for a time, " the captain said. "The chancesare that before long one of them will look out from theirhiding-place, and perhaps make his way up to the top to look round. Ifhe does, that will give us an index as to the direction at any rate oftheir hiding-place. Now, I will take the ground in front; do you watchto the left, Conway, and you to the right, Desmond. We had better liedown, or on this jutting point we may catch the eye of any one downthere before we can see him. Keep a sharp lookout lads; it will saveus a world of trouble if we can see one of them. "

For half an hour they lay quiet, then Desmond suddenly exclaimed:

"There is a man among those fallen rocks halfway up the side. There!he is gone. Perhaps we shall see him again in a moment. "

For five minutes they lay with their eyes fixed on the rocks thatDesmond pointed out, but there were no signs of life. 

"Are you sure you were not mistaken, Desmond?" O'Connor asked. 

"Quite certain. He suddenly appeared by the side of that gray bowlder, stood there for a moment, and sunk down again. I expect he must havegot a view of one of the men somewhere along the top. "

"We will wait another ten minutes, " O'Connor said, "and then we willtake a party to the spot and search it thoroughly. There is thecoast-guard boat, so there is no fear of their getting away by water. "

Another quarter of an hour passed. 

"It is no use waiting any longer. Go along the line, one each way, andbring ten men from points where they can be spared. We will leave themat the top of the path and take the party there down with us. Thereare only four or five of them, and ten men beside ourselves are amplefor the business. "

The arrangements were soon made. Before starting on the descentO'Connor said to the men: "We wish to take the fellows who are hidingdown there alive if possible. They are the gang of the fellow known asthe 'Red Captain, ' and have committed a score of murders; but if it isabsolutely necessary you will of course fire. There is one man amongthem who is there on compulsion, and is less guilty than the rest. Heis a fair-haired man, and I should think you would notice thedifference between him and the rest. Whatever resistance they make itis not probable that he will join in it. At any rate, do not fire athim unless it is absolutely necessary to save life. Now see to yourpriming before we start, and fix bayonets. Mind how you climb overthese rocks, because if any of you fall your muskets may go off andshoot some one in front of you. Wherever it is possible scatter outabreast of each other, so as to prevent the possibility of accident. Now, then, march!"

Leading the way, Captain O'Connor descended the little track. Itextended but a short distance. Beyond that a chaos of fallenrocks--the remains of a landslip many years previously--stretched awayto the shore. 

"There is no working along these sideways, Desmond, " Captain O'Connorsaid after they had climbed along for some little distance. "We hadbetter make straight down to the shore, follow that for a bit, andthen mount again to the spot where you saw the man. "

It was difficult work, but at last the party reached the shore. Lieutenant Adcock, who was himself in command of the boat, had watchedthe party making their way down the rocks, and now rowed in to withina few yards. 

"Good-morning, lieutenant, " Captain O'Connor said. "I think we havegot them fairly trapped; but doubtless they would have made off ifthey hadn't seen you on the watch outside. It's that notoriousscoundrel the Red Captain of Galway who is, I hear, hiding here withhis gang. "

"Indeed!" the revenue officer said; "that will be a capture worthmaking. Shall I come ashore with four of my men? I expect they aremore accustomed to climbing about among the rocks than yours are, andI should like to lend a hand. "

"Do, by all means, " Captain O'Connor replied. "I see you have got ten, and six will be quite enough in the boat, even if they do manage toget down and embark, which I don't think they will. Your men are allarmed, I suppose?"

"Yes; they have all carbines and cutlasses. Now, coxswain, I leave youin charge. Row out a quarter of a mile, and if any boat pushes off youare to stop it and arrest all on board. They will almost certainlyresist, and in that case you must use your arms. Now, the four bowoars get out and step ashore. "

When the lieutenant and his four men had landed, the boat again pushedoff, and the party on shore made their way along over the rocks at theedge of the water until they were opposite the rock where LieutenantDesmond had seen the man appear. Then the ascent was commenced. Thefour officers went first, the men following in a line. 

"Bear a little to the left, " Captain O'Connor said; "it is likely tolie somewhere in that direction. The man we saw would have been makingtoward the path and not from it. Keep a sharp lookout between thesegreat rocks; there is no saying where the entrance to theirhiding-place may be. "

Almost as he spoke there was a sharp crack of a rifle, and the bulletstruck the rock on which he was standing. 

"Come on, lads!" he shouted, "the sooner we are there the less timethey have got to fire;" and with a cheer the men hurried forward, scrambling recklessly over the rocks. Again and again puffs of smokedarted out from the rocks in front; and one of the soldiers fell, shotthrough the heart. 

"Don't stop to fire!" Captain O'Connor shouted as a yell of rage brokefrom the men; "you will do no good, and it will only give them moretime. "

A dozen more shots were fired. One of the coast-guard men was shotthrough the shoulder; but this was the only casualty, for the quickmovements of the men as they scrambled over the bowlders disconcertedthe aim of those above. Breathless and panting the four officersgained the spot from which the shots had been fired, the men close upbehind them; but not a soul was to be seen. 

"Wait a moment till you get breath, lads, " their leader said. "Theycan't be far from here. We will find their hiding-place presently, never fear. "

As they stood panting there was a shout from above. The soldiers werestanding along the edge of the cliff, looking down upon the fight. Sergeant Morris waved his arm. 

"They have made away to your left, sir!" he shouted at the top of hisvoice. "We have just caught sight of them among the rocks!"

In two or three minutes Captain O'Connor led the way in thatdirection. 

"Keep your eyes sharply about, lads. No doubt the place is cunninglyhidden. Search among every clump of bushes between the rocks. "

Presently the sergeant shouted down again from above:

"I think you are far enough now, sir! We did not catch sight of thembeyond that!"

For an hour the search continued, but without avail. 

"They must be here somewhere, lads!" Captain O'Connor said. "We willfind them if we have to stop here a week, and have provisions broughtdown from the village. It's pretty evident there is no opening betweenthe great rocks or we must have found it. We must examine the smallerbowlders. They may have one so placed that it can be dropped down overthe entrance. That flat slab is a likely-looking place, for instance. Three or four of you get hold of it and heave it up. "

The men gathered round to lift it. Ralph stooped down and peeped underas they did so. 

"Hurrah!" he shouted, "there is an opening here. "

Several of the others now got hold of the stone. It was up-ended andthrown backward, and the entrance to a passage some three feet highand two feet wide was revealed. 

"I can smell a peat fire!" one of the men exclaimed. 

"This is the entrance, no doubt, " Captain O'Connor said. "See, thebottom is evidently worn by feet. The passage must have been used fora long time; but it's an awkward place to follow desperate men into. "

"It is, indeed, " Lieutenant Adcock agreed. "They could shoot us downone after one as we go in. They would see us against the light, whilewe should be able to make out nothing. "

"Surrender in there!" Captain O'Connor shouted. "You can't get away;and I promise you all a fair trial. "

His summons was followed by a taunting laugh; and a moment later therewas a sharp sound within, and a rifle bullet struck the side of theentrance and flew out. 

"It would be throwing away one's life to go in there, " CaptainO'Connor said. "At any rate we have got them secure, and they mustcome out in time. But it would be madness to crawl in there on one'shands and feet to be picked off by those scoundrels at their ease. Now, lads, two of you stand by this entrance. Keep out of the line offire, and be ready with your bayonets to run any one through who comesout. Let the rest scatter and search round this place. They may haveanother entrance. If so, we must find it. In the first place, it maybe easier of entry; in the second they might escape from it afterdark. "

Again the search began. 

"Do you think it is likely to be higher up or lower down, O'Connor?"Lieutenant Desmond asked. 

"There is no saying, Desmond; the passage seems to go straight in. Ishould fancy above rather than below. "

For a long time they searched without success; then Ralph, who hadgone higher up the rocks than the rest, came upon a clump of lowbushes growing between some large bowlders. There was nothingsuspicious about them, and he was just turning away when he perceiveda slight odor of peat smoke. 

Silently he made his way down to the captain. 

"I have found another entrance, " he said. "At any rate I think so; forI certainly smelled smoke. If we go quietly we may take themunawares. "

Captain O'Connor passed the word along for the men to gather silently, and Ralph then led the way up to the clump of bushes. 

"Yes, I can smell the peat plainly enough. Now, Conway, do you searchamong the bushes. Carefully, lad, we don't know what the place islike. "

Cautiously Ralph pushed the bushes aside. He saw at once that thesehad been carefully trained to cover a large hole. This was about threefeet wide; and descended at a sharp angle, forming a sloping passageof sufficient height for a man to stand upright. Captain O'Connorknelt down and looked in. 

"This looks more possible, " he said; "but it's very steep. I shouldsay it is not used by them, but acts as a sort of chimney to ventilatethe cavern and let the smoke out. At any rate we will try it; but wemust take our boots off so as to get a better hold on the rocks, beside we shall make less noise. Blunt and Jervis, do you go down tothe other entrance again. It is likely enough that they may try tomake a bolt that way if they hear us coming. Keep a sharp lookout downthere, and be sure no one escapes. "

"Don't you think, Captain O'Connor, that it will be a good thing toenter from there also the moment a row is heard going on within. Theirattention will be taken up with your attack, and we may get in withoutbeing noticed. "

"That's a very good idea, Conway; and you shall carry it out. Take twomore men with you, and make your way in as soon as you hear usengaged. But remember that it is quite possible we may not be able toget down. This passage may get almost perpendicular presently; andthough I mean to go if possible, even if I have a straight drop forit, it may close up and be altogether impracticable. So don't you tryto enter till you are quite sure they are engaged with us, otherwiseyou will be only throwing away your life. "

"I understand, sir, " Ralph said as he turned to go off. "If you get inyou can reckon on our assistance immediately; if not, we shall make nomove. "

Ralph now took up his station at the mouth of the cavern with his sixmen, and lay down just in front of the opening listening attentively. He could hear a continued murmur as of many voices. 

"Get ready, lads, to follow me the instant you see me dive in, " hesaid. "I am sure by the sound there are more than four men in there, and Captain O'Connor may want help badly. "

Grasping a pistol in his left hand, and his sword in his right, Ralphlistened attentively. Suddenly he heard a shout, followed by a volleyof imprecations, and then the discharge of a gun or a pistol. 

In an instant he threw himself forward along the low narrow passage. He had not gone more than three or four yards when he found that itheightened, and he was able to stand upright. He rushed on, keepinghis bead low in case the roof should lower again, and after a fewpaces entered a large cabin. It was dimly illuminated by two torchesstuck against the wall. In a moment a number of figures rushed towardhim with loud shouts; but before they reached him two of the soldiersstood by his side. 

"Fire!" he shouted as he discharged his pistol, and at the same momentthe soldiers beside him discharged their muskets. 

A moment later he was engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand conflict. Several firearms had flashed off almost in his face. One of thesoldiers fell with a sharp cry, but those who were following rushedforward. Ralph narrowly escaped having his brains dashed out by aclubbed rifle, but springing back just in time he ran his opponentthrough before he could recover his guard. 

Just at this moment a big man with a shock of red hair and a hugebeard leveled a blunderbuss at him. It flashed across him that hislast moment had come, when a man behind leaped suddenly upon theruffian's back and they fell to the ground together, the blunderbussgoing off in the fall and riddling a soldier standing next to Ralphwith slugs. 

For two or three minutes a desperate struggle went on between Ralphand his six men and those who attempted to break through them. Sturdily as the soldiers fought they had been driven back toward theentrance by the assailants, armed with pikes and clubbed guns. Therewas no sound of conflict at the other end of the cave, and Ralph feltthat the attack there had for some reason failed. 

"Shoulder to shoulder, lads!" he shouted. "We shall have help in aminute or two. "

He had emptied both his double-barrelled pistols. His sword had justbroken short in his hand while guarding his head from a heavy blow. Hehimself had been almost struck to the ground, when there was a rush ofmen from behind, and the rest of the soldiers poured in. 

"Give them a volley, lads!" he shouted; "and then charged them withthe bayonets!"

The muskets rang out, and then there was a shout of "We surrender! wesurrender!"

A minute later the men were disarmed. There was still a desperatestruggle going on on the ground. 

"Here, lads, " Ralph said to two of his men. "Secure this red fellow, he is their leader. One of you bring a torch here. "

The light was brought. It was seen that the man who had sprung uponthe Red Captain's back had pinioned his arms to his sides, and heldthem there in spite of the efforts of the ruffian to free himself. Twoof the soldiers took off their belts and fastened them together, passed them between the back of the man and his captor, and thenstrapped his arms firmly to his side. The man who held them thenreleased his grip. 

"Stand over him with fixed bayonets, and if he moves run him through. Now, where's Captain O'Connor?"

"I don't know, sir. He and Mr. Desmond and the naval officer went downthe hole in front of us. We were following when the naval officershouted up to us to run round to this entrance and make our way inthere, for he could go no further. "

"I am here, Conway, " a faint voice said from the other end of thecabin; "but I have broken my leg I think, and Desmond has knocked allthe wind out of my body. "

Ralph hastened to the spot whence the voice came and found CaptainO'Connor lying on the ground, and Lieutenant Desmond insensible besidehim. 

"What has happened?" Ralph exclaimed. "Have they shot you?"

"No. Hold the torch up and you will see the way we came. "

The soldier did so, and Ralph looking up saw a hole in the top of thecave twenty feet above. 

"You don't mean to say you came through there, O'Connor?"

"I did, worse luck to it!" O'Connor said. "The passage got steeper andsteeper, and at last my foot slipped, and I shot down and came plumpinto the middle of a peat fire; and a moment later Desmond shot downon to the top of me. We scattered the fire all over the place, as youcan imagine; but I burned my hands and face, and I believe the leg ofmy breeches is on fire--something is hurting me confoundedly. "

"Yes, it is all smoldering!" Ralph exclaimed, putting it out with hishands. 

"Have you got them all?" Captain O'Connor asked. 

"Everyone; not one has made his escape. It would have fared badly withus, though, if Lieutenant Adcock had not sent down the men to ourassistance. Where is your leg broken, O'Connor?"

"Above the knee, " the captain said. 

"Here is some whisky and water, " Ralph said, handing him his bottle. "Now, I will see what has happened to Desmond, " and he stooped overthe insensible officer. 

"He has got a nasty gash on his forehead, and I think his right arm isbroken, " he said. "I will pour a little spirits between his lips, andthen he had better be carried out into the air. "

This was done; and then Ralph went outside, and shouted to SergeantMorris to bring down another twenty men. 

"If you please, sir, " one of the coast-guard men said, touching hishat, "I don't see any signs of our officer. Have you seen him?"

"No, " Ralph said. "Perhaps he is still in that passage. You had betterrun up to the top and see. "

Two minutes later the man returned:

"He's down there, sir; but he says he can't get up or down. "

"You had better run down to the boat at once, " Ralph said. "I see sheis close inshore. Bring a couple more of your men up with you and arope. If you tie that round your body you can go down and bring himup. "

Ralph then returned to the cavern, where the men were still guardingthe prisoners. 

"You can march them outside now, " he said. "Then make them sit down, and stand over them with fixed bayonets till Sergeant Morris arrives. Now let us look to the wounded. "

An examination showed that two of the soldiers were dead, and threeothers badly wounded. Seven of the party in the cave lay on theground. One only was alive; the rest had fallen either from bullet orbayonet wounds. Seeing that nothing could be done here Ralph lookedround the cavern. He soon saw that just where Captain O'Connor hadfallen there was an entrance into another cave. He reloaded hispistols before he entered this, but found it deserted. 

It contained two large stills, with mash tubs and every appliance, twoor three hundred kegs of whisky, and some thirty sacks of barley. Thisat once accounted for the cave being known, and for the number of menfound in it; for in addition to the seven that had fallen sixprisoners had been taken. The walls of the cave were deeplysmoke-stained, showing that it had been used as a distillery for agreat number of years. 

"That is satisfactory, " Captain O'Connor said when Ralph reported tohim the discovery he had made. "That place where I came down is ofcourse the chimney. Peat does not give much smoke, and making its wayout through that screen of bushes it would be so light that it wouldnot be noticed by any one on the cliffs. Well, it's been a goodmorning's work--a band of notorious scoundrels captured and an illicitstill discovered in full work. It was a cleverly contrived place. Ofcourse it is a natural cavern, and was likely enough known before thefall of rocks from above so completely concealed the entrance. I wishthose fellows would come, though, for my leg is hurting me amazingly, and these burns on my hands and face are smarting horribly. Shout outto them on the cliff, Conway, and tell them to send at once to fetchDr. Doran from the village. The wounded ought to be seen to as soon aspossible, and it is likely enough that some of them cannot be taken upover the rocks to the top of the cliff. I dread the business myself. "

In a quarter of an hour Sergeant Morris arrived with his party. Bythis time Lieutenant Desmond had recovered consciousness, and althoughin great pain from his broken arm was consoled upon hearing of thecomplete success of the expedition. The soldiers were furious onhearing that three of their comrades had been killed, and two of theirofficers badly injured. 

"Sergeant, " Ralph said, "bring four of your men into the cave with me. Now, " he continued when they entered, "there is a pile of blankets inthat corner; take one of them and fasten it across two of the men'smuskets, so as to make a litter. Then we must lift Captain O'Connorcarefully and put him on it and get him outside. It will be adifficult business getting him through the narrow entrance, but wemust manage it as well as we can. But first let us thoroughly examinethe caves; there may be another entrance somewhere. "

Searching carefully they found a passage behind the stack of kegs. Itwas some eight feet high and as much wide. They followed it for ashort distance, and then saw daylight. Their way was, however, speedily blocked by a number of rocks piled over the entrance. 

"This was evidently the original entrance to these caves, " Ralph said, "but it was covered up when the rocks came down from above. That wouldaccount for the place not being known to the coast-guards. I thoughtthe passage we came in by looked as if it had been enlarged by thehand of man. No doubt it was originally a small hole, and when theentrance was blocked the men who made up their minds to establish astill here thought that it would be the best way to enlarge that andto leave the original entrance blocked. 

"Well, it's evident we must take Captain O'Connor and the wounded outby the small entrance. It would be a tremendous business to clearthose great rocks away. "

Captain O'Connor and the two wounded men were with great difficultytaken through the narrow passage. The soldier who was alive was theone who had received the charge of the blunderbuss in his legs; he wasterribly injured below the knee, and Ralph had little doubt thatamputation would be necessary. The other man lived but a short timeafter being brought into the air. 

Ralph now turned to the peasant who had saved his life by grapplingwith the Red Captain at the moment he was about to discharge hisblunderbuss, and who had by his orders been left unbound. He wassitting a short distance from the other prisoners. 

"Your name is Denis Moore?" he said. 

"It is, your honor, " the man replied in surprise; "though how you cameto know it beats me entirely. "

"I heard it from your wife last night, " Ralph said. 

"From Bridget?" the man exclaimed. "Why, I thought she was a hundredmiles away!"

"She came down here like a brave woman to try and save you, " Ralphsaid, "and gave us information that brought us to this hiding-place;but her name is not to appear, and no one will know how we heard ofit. We promised her that no harm should come to you if we could helpit, and, thanks to the act by which you saved my life, you haveescaped, for being down on the ground you were out of the line of thefire of our bullets. Of course at present we shall treat you as aprisoner, as you were captured with the others; but I think we shallmanage to let you slip away. Your wife is to remain at Dunmanway tillshe hears the news of this affair and that you are safe, and she bademe tell you that you would find her at home, so no one will dream thateither she or you had any hand in this affair. Now, point me out whichare the four men that belong to this gang that brought you down here. "

"The man who has just died was one of them, " Denis replied. "None ofthe other three are here, so I expect they fell in the cabin. Theywere in the front of the fight. I saw one go down just as I grappledwith our captain. "

"So much the better, " Ralph said. "As to their leader, there will beno difficulty in getting evidence about him. The regiment he belongedto is in Dublin, and they can prove the shooting of his officer;beside, they can get any amount of evidence from Galway. "

"Ay; they will be ready enough to speak out now the whole gang aredown, " Denis Moore said. "They would not have dared to open their lipsotherwise. The other prisoners all belong about here. One of theirparty is the captain's brother. That's how it is they came to take usin. But I think they would have been glad to get rid of us, for theRed Captain's lot were too bad for anything; and it isn't because menare ready to cheat the king's revenue that they are fond of suchvillains and murderers as these. "

In a short time the doctor arrived. He had brought a case ofinstruments with him. 

"There's nothing for it but amputation here, " he said when he examinedthe wounded soldier. "His legs are just splintered. The sooner I do itthe better. "

Sergeant Morris and three of the men held the poor fellow while theoperation was performed. As soon as it was over the doctor appliedsplints and bandages to Captain O'Connor's leg and LieutenantDesmond's arm, and dressed the wounds of three of the other men, whohad suffered more or less severely. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

STARTLING NEWS. 

"What do you think is the best thing to be done now doctor?" Ralphasked. 

"I don't know, " he replied. "I don't see how on earth we are going toget them over these rocks and up to the top. A slip or a fall wouldcost either of your friends their limbs, and that poor fellow hislife. I don't see how it is to be managed. It's hard work for a man toclimb those rocks, and how a litter is to be carried I can't see. Ifit were anywhere else I should say build a hut for them; but it wouldbe a tremendous business getting the materials down, and I don't thinkit could possibly be managed by night. "

"I am sure it couldn't, " Ralph said, shaking his head. "I think, though, if we got two long poles and slung a piece of canvas like ahammock between them we may possibly get them down to the shore. Yousee we have plenty of strength to get them over rough places. "

"We could manage that easy enough, " Lieutenant Adcock, who had sometime before joined the party, said. "There are some sixteen-feet oarsin the boat and some sails. We could easily rig up the hammock. Isuppose you mean to take them off in the boat, Mr. Conway?"

"Yes; that's what I meant, " Ralph said. "Then you can land them inyour cove, and they might stop in the village till they are fit to bemoved. "

"That would be an excellent plan, " the doctor said. "Let us set aboutit at once. "

In half an hour the sailors brought up the hammock. 

"I will go first, " Captain O'Connor said, "as I am the heaviest. Youwill see how you manage to get me down. If it's done pretty easily youcan bring down the two others; if not, they had better stop in thecave for to-night, and we will get a hut for them to-morrow. By theway, Conway, you had better get the dead carried out and taken down tothe seashore. Have them laid down out of reach of the tide. Some ofthem belong about here, and their friends will wish to give them adecent burial. Our own dead had better be put in the boat, if Mr. Adcock will allow it, and taken to the village with us. Then they canbe carried over to Ballyporrit for burial. A corporal with four menmust be left for to-night in charge of the caves. "

"I shall want my men to row the boat, " Lieutenant Adcock said. "In themorning I will send over a warrant officer and four men to take chargeof the cave till I can take its contents round to our stores. "

Captain O'Connor was now lifted into the hammock, and six sailorscarried him down to the water. They managed it excellently, easing himdown with the greatest care over the rocks, and succeeded in gettinghim down to the sea without a single jerk. Lieutenant Desmond and thewounded soldiers were then taken down in the same way, while the mencarried down the dead bodies of their three comrades and of thepeasants who had fallen. 

"I will take charge of the wounded, " Lieutenant Adcock said, "and seethem comfortably housed and cared for. I suppose Dr. Doran will gowith us. "

"Certainly, " the doctor said, stepping into the boat. I shall not giveup charge of them until I see them all safely in bed. "

"I shall come over and see you O'Connor, " Ralph said, "as soon as Iget the company back to the village. Shall I write a report of thisbusiness, or do you feel equal to doing so?"

"I will manage it, Conway. I can dictate it if I don't feel up towriting it. But you had better not come over to-day. There will be agood deal of excitement over this capture, and no doubt several of thekilled and prisoners belong to Ballyporrit; so it wouldn't do for youto leave the detachment without an officer. Be sure you have a strictguard put over the prisoners, and keep an eye upon them yourself. Youcan send over to inquire about us, but till you have got them off yourhands you had better not leave the village. If a party are wanted forstill-hunting send Sergeant Morris with them. I shall dispatch myreport to-night, and no doubt the colonel will send an officer out tohelp you as soon as he gets it. "

The boat now pushed off. A corporal and four men were told off tooccupy the cave until relieved by the revenue men, and then, with theprisoners in their center, the party climbed the cliff, and again, having been joined at the top by the rest of the company, marched toBallyporrit. They found the village in a state of excitement. Thesoldier who had gone to fetch the doctor had brought the news that afight had take place down on the face of the cliff, but he could notsay whether any had been killed. As soon as the detachment returnedwith the prisoners in their midst many women flocked round with criesand lamentations, and exchanged greetings with the prisoners. 

Ralph at once took possession of the stables at the inn, and saw thatthe prisoners were all handcuffed, the Red ruffian's legs being alsosecurely bound. Then he placed two sentries inside and two out. Thenews that some of the men had been killed soon spread, and many of thevillagers who did not see their relations among the prisoners hurriedoff toward the scene of action. Ralph informed the landlord that thedead had all been placed together on the seashore, and that theirfriends were at liberty to remove and bury them without any questionsbeing asked. He then sent a corporal over to bring back news how thewounded men had borne the journey, and how they were disposed. Butbefore his return the doctor drove up in a trap that he had borrowed. 

"Adcock has put up the two officers in his own house, " he said, "andhis wife will look after them, so you need not worry about them. Theother poor fellows are in the cottage next door. It belongs to thecoxswain of the boat, who is also a married man. So you need be underno uneasiness about any of them. As far as I can see, they are alllikely to do well. I shall go over the first thing in the morning, andwill bring you news of them as soon as I get back. "

Ralph had given orders that Denis Moore was not to be treated as aprisoner; and he now told the sergeant to send him in to him. 

"I have been thinking it over, Moore, " he said; "and it seems to methe best plan will be to allow you to go quietly away. Your conduct inthe fight in the cave in itself showed that you were not voluntarilywith the others; and I do not think, therefore, that it is necessaryto report you among the prisoners. I suppose the Red Captain's ganghave not done any unlawful act beyond taking part in the stillbusiness since they took you away from home?"

"No, your honor. We just came straight down here, traveling at nightand hiding away by day. "

"Very well. In that case you can give no special evidence againstthem. It is probable that at the trial evidence may be required fromGalway as to the deeds that that red-bearded scoundrel committedthere; and it is possible that you may be summoned with others, but Ishould think that the evidence of the constabulary will be sufficient. So, if you will give me your address there I will take it upon myselfto let you go at once. In that case you can join your wife thisevening and travel back with her. "

"Thank you, sir, " Denis replied. "I have no objection at all to giveevidence as to what I know, so that it does not come out it wasBridget who tould you where they were hiding. "

"You need not be afraid of that, Denis. Captain O'Connor gave her hisword that her name should not be mentioned. At the same time I have nodoubt he will claim for her the hundred pounds reward that wasoffered; and if he obtains it he will send it to you, so that nobodywill be any the wiser. "

"I should not like to take informer's money, " Denis said. 

"Not in ordinary cases, " Ralph replied. "But you see she spoke out, not for the sake of money, but to get you out of their hands. Andconsidering how much mischief those fellows have done, and how muchmore they would have done had we not laid hands on them, it is a verydifferent case from that of an ordinary informer. None of yourneighbors will know that she has had anything to do with the captureof these men, therefore no one will be any the wiser, and no doubt ahundred pounds will be very useful to you. I am sure you deserve somesort of compensation for being dragged away from home, and for therisk you ran in that fight; for a bullet might just as well havestruck you as any of the others. I know that if I were in your place Ishould accept it without the least hesitation. And now, as I don'tsuppose they have left any money on you, and as your wife is notlikely to be very well provided, I will give you five pounds onaccount; and remember that I shall always feel your debtor for themanner in which you saved my life by springing upon that ruffian justat the critical moment. "

"You will deduct it from the other money, your honor?" Denis said, hesitating. 

"Certainly I will, Denis. I should not think of offering you money forsuch a service as you rendered me. Now, if you will just give me youraddress in Galway I will make a note of it; though I don't think it atall likely you will be wanted at the trial. They will most likelyproceed against him on the charge of shooting his officer anddeserting; for they will have no difficulty in proving that, as theregiment he belonged to is in Dublin. "

Denis started at once to rejoin his wife, highly pleased to have gotaway so quickly. Two days later Captain Morrison and Mr. Stapletonarrived from headquarters. 

"I congratulate you, Conway, " the latter said heartily. "We all pitiedyour being ordered away to this dreary place; and now you have beengetting no end of honor and credit. O'Connor's report speaks in thestrongest terms of you, and says it was entirely owing to yourpromptness and courage that the band was captured, and his life andthat of Desmond saved. The Cork papers are full of the affair; and thecapture of that notorious scoundrel, the Red Captain, created quite anexcitement, I can tell you. The only bad part of the affair is that wehave had to come out here, for I am afraid there is no chance whateverof another adventure like yours. "

"Oh, I fancy there are plenty more stills to be captured, Stapleton;and that's good fun in its way, though it involves a good deal ofmarching and hard work. "

"And how are O'Connor and Desmond getting on?" Captain Morrison asked. 

"I had a very good report of them this morning from the doctor, andnow that you have come I shall take a trap and drive over and see themat once. I had O'Connor's orders not to leave here till you arrived. "

"You are to go back yourself to-morrow morning, Conway, " CaptainMorrison said. "You are to take the prisoners in with an escort of acorporal and ten men, and to hand them over to the civil authorities;which means, I suppose, that you are to take them to the prison. "

"I suppose I shall come straight out again?" Ralph asked. 

"I should think so; for with all this still-hunting business threeofficers are wanted here. But of course you will report yourself tothe colonel and get orders. Here are the orders he gave me to giveyou. You are to start early, make a twenty-mile march, halt for thenight, and go on again the first thing in the morning. You are to hirea cart for the wounded prisoners, and to exercise the utmost vigilanceon the way. The men are to carry loaded muskets. It is not likelythere will be any attempt at a rescue; but such things have happenedbefore now. If anything of the sort should take place, and you findthat you are likely to get worsted, your orders are that you are notto let the Red Captain be carried off alive. Put a man specially overhim, with instructions to shoot him rather than let him be taken awayfrom him. The colonel will hold you harmless. The scoundrel hascommitted too many murders to be allowed to go free. "

"I understand, " Ralph said, "and will carry out the orders; and now Iwill be off at once, for it will be dark in an hour. "

Ralph was glad to find that the two officers were going on better thanhe had expected. Lieutenant Desmond was already up, with his arm insplints and a great patch of plaster across his forehead. O'Connor wasstill in bed, and was likely to remain so for some time. Theregimental surgeon was with him, having left the other two officers atthe turn of the road leading to the village. 

"I am glad to see you, Conway, " Captain O'Connor said cheerfully. "Iwas expecting you. The doctor said Morrison and Stapleton had gone onto Ballyporrit. None the worse for your brush, I hope?"

"Not a bit, " Ralph said. "The bump on my head caused by that musketblow hurt me a bit the first day or two, but it's going down now. I amglad to see you and Desmond looking so well. "

"Oh, we shall soon be all right; though I am afraid I shall be kept onmy back for some little time. Desmond is rather in despair, because heis afraid his beauty is spoiled; for the doctor says that cut on hisforehead is likely to leave a nasty scar. He would not have minded itif it had been done by a French dragoon saber; but to have got it fromtumbling down a chimney troubles him sorely. It will be very painfulto him when a partner at a ball asks him sympathizingly in what battlehe was wounded, to have to explain that he tumbled head foremost intoa peat fire. "

Desmond laughed. "Well, it is rather a nuisance; and you see Conway, the ashes have got so ground up in the place that the doctor is afraidit will be a black scar. O'Connor chaffs me about it, but I am sure hewouldn't like it himself. "

"Why, my dear fellow, it's a most honorable wound. You will be able todilate upon the desperate capture of the noted ruffian the RedCaptain, and how you and that noble officer Captain O'Connor dashedalone into the cavern, tenanted by thirteen notorious desperadoes. Why, properly worked up, man, there is no end of capital to be madeout of it. I foresee that I shall be quite a hero at tea-fights. Abattle is nothing to such an affair as this. Of course it will not benecessary to say that you shot down into the middle of them like asack of wheat because you could not help it. You must speak of yourreckless spring of twenty feet from that upper passage into the middleof them. Why, properly told, the dangers of the breach at Badajoswould pale before it. "

"I am glad to see that you are in such high spirits, " Ralph said whenthe laugh had subsided. "There's no fear of your being lame after it, I hope?"

"No, Dr. Doran says it is a clean snap of the bone, and it will, hethinks, mend all right; and as Macpherson, who has been examining it, says the same, I hope it is all right. It is very good of the colonelsending the doctor over to us; but I think Doran understands hisbusiness well, and has made a capital job of both of us. "

"How is Rawlinson going on?"

"Oh, I think he will do very well, " the surgeon said. "Of course he'sa little down in the mouth about himself. It is not a pleasantprospect for a man to have to go about on two wooden legs all hislife. Still it's been done in the service; and as the fight was asharp one, and such an important capture was made, he will get hisfull pension, and I shall strongly recommend him for Chelsea Hospitalif he likes to take it. But he tells me he was by trade a carpenterbefore he enlisted, and I expect he would rather go down to live amonghis own people. His wooden legs won't prevent him earning a living athis trade; and as he is rather a good-looking fellow I dare say hewon't have much difficulty in getting a wife. Maimed heroes areirresistible to the female mind. "

"That's a comfort for you, Desmond, anyhow, " O'Connor laughed. "Thatblack patch on your forehead ought to add a thousand a year to yourmarketable value. "

The next morning Ralph marched with his detachment, and arrived atCork without adventure. Here he handed his prisoners over to the civilauthorities of the jail, and then marched up to the barracks. He atonce reported himself to the colonel, who congratulated him warmlyupon the success that had attended the capture, and upon his ownconduct in the affair. 

"I will not keep you now, " the colonel said, "for the mess-buglesounded five minutes ago. I shall see you again in the morning. "

As Ralph entered the messroom the officers had just taken their seats. He was greeted with a boisterous outburst of welcome. His comrades gotup and shook his hand warmly, and he had to answer many inquiries asto how O'Connor and Desmond were going on. 

"Sit down, gentlemen!" the major who was president of the messshouted. "Conway has had a twenty-mile march, and is, I have no doubt, as hungry as a hunter. Let him eat his dinner in peace, and then whenthe wine is on the table he shall relate his adventures in detail. Bythe way, Conway, I hope you have lodged that ruffian safely in jail?"

"Yes, sir, I have handed him over, and glad I was to get him off myhands; for though I had him handcuffed and his feet tied, and broughthim along in a cart, I never felt comfortable all the way. The fellowis as strong as a bull, and as he knows what is before him he wascapable of anything desperate to effect his escape. "

"I remember the man well, " one of the officers said; "for, as youknow, I was in his regiment before I exchanged into the Twenty-eighth. He was a notorious character. He had the strength of two ordinary men, and once or twice when he was drunk it took eight men to bring himinto barracks. I am heartily glad he is caught, for the poor fellow hekilled was one of the most popular men in the regiment--with thesoldiers as well as with us--and if they could have laid hands on thisfellow I believe they would have hung him up without a trial. I shallhave real pleasure in giving evidence against the scoundrel for I waspresent at the time he shot poor Forrest. I wasn't five yards away, but it was all over and the villain was off before I had time to lifta hand. "

After dinner was over Ralph gave the full history of the capture inthe cavern, of which Captain O'Connor had sent but an outline. 

"It was a sharp fight indeed, " the major said when he had finished;"for, for a time you were greatly outnumbered, and in the darkdiscipline is not of much avail. I think on the whole you got verywell out of it, and O'Connor and Desmond were lucky in having got offwith a broken limb each. "

Ralph was detained some days in Cork, as he had to be present at thecourthouse when the prisoners were brought up before the magistrates. After giving his evidence as to the capture, his attendance was nofurther required. All with the exception of the Red Captain werecommitted at once upon the charges of working an illicit still, and ofoffering a forcible resistance with arms to the authority of theking's officers. The Red Captain was charged with several murders, andwas remanded in order that evidence might be obtained from theregiment to which he belonged in Dublin, and of the constabulary andother people in County Galway. Ralph then returned to Ballyporrit. 

A fortnight later the detachment was recalled, the colonel havingreceived the news that the regiment would be shortly under orders forAmerica. Lieutenant Desmond was able to travel to Cork at once, although still unfit for duty; and the surgeon reported that inanother fortnight Captain O'Connor would be also fit to be removed. 

Ten days later definite orders were received for the regiment to beready for embarkation, as soon as the two transports which had beenordered round from Plymouth arrived. Soldiers are always fond ofchange; and although there were few more pleasant quarters than Cork, there was a general feeling of animation and excitement at the thoughtof service at the other side of the Atlantic. All officers and men onfurlough were at once recalled. The friends of many of the officerscame across from England, to be with them till they sailed upon whatwas then considered a long and perilous voyage. Balls and dinners weregiven to and by the regiment. Officers overhauled their kits andbelongings, getting what new things were required, bargaining withbrokers for their furniture, and making all preparations for aprolonged absence from England. 

"Ah, Stapleton, " Ralph said, as the young ensign came into hisquarters one day in high spirits, "there will be a sad change comeover you before long. You almost wished you might die on your wayround here from London. What will be your feelings when you have toface the waves of the Atlantic?"

"Don't talk about it, Conway. The very thought makes me feel queer. However, I expect I shall get on better now than I did last time. Whatan ass I was, to be sure, on that voyage!"

"Well, I do think your four months with the regiment have done you aworld of good, Stapleton. You certainly were a stuck-up sort ofpersonage when you came on board in the Thames. I think it is an awfulmistake for a fellow to be educated at home, instead of being sent toschool; they are sure to have to suffer for it afterward. "

"Well, I have suffered for it to some extent, " Stapleton said. "Thelessons I got at first were sharp ones; but they certainly did megood. "

"There is no doubt about that, " Ralph agreed; "and I think there is agood deal of credit due to you, Stapleton, for having taken things inthe right way. I wonder where we shall be stationed in America, andwhether we shall have any fighting? Upon the whole we have no verygreat reason to be proud of our feats of arms in America; but I hopewe shall do better next time. You see, in the last struggle we knewnothing of their tactics, and were at a great disadvantage; but afterfighting its way through the Peninsular, I don't think there is anyfear of the regiment not giving a good account of itself, if it iscalled upon to do so, out there. "

The next day an orderly came into the room just after mess-dinner hadcommenced. He whispered to the adjutant, who at once rose. 

"Mr. President, " he said to the major who was at the head of thetable, "I must ask you to excuse me leaving the table. The colonelwishes to see me immediately at his quarters. "

"What can be the matter now?" one of the officers said. "It must besomething of importance or the colonel would never hare calledHallowes out in that way. "

"Heard of some still away among the hills, I suppose. That means anight's tramp for some of us. Too bad to be put to this sort of workwithin a week of sailing on foreign service, " grumbled another. 

Various guesses were made as to the nature of the business, andseveral wagers were laid on the subject. In ten minutes the adjutantreturned. He was evidently excited, and all listened with greatinterest as, instead of resuming his seat, he remained standing. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, "I have great news for you. A vessel has justcome in from Plymouth with dispatches. Napoleon has escaped from Elba. He has landed in France, and been received with enthusiasm. The troopshave joined him, and he is already close to Paris, which he isexpected to enter without opposition. The King of France has fled. "

For a moment there was silence, then the major leaped to his feet. 

"Three cheers, gentlemen!" and all of those present joined in a heartycheer. 

Then a sudden silence fell upon them. The first idea that had struckeach man was that the news meant their again taking the field foranother stirring campaign. Then the dismal thought occurred to themthat the regiment was under orders for America. It soon foundexpression in words. 

"Why, major, they surely won't be sending us across the Atlantic nowthis news has arrived. The Powers will never permit all their work tobe undone, and Napoleon to mount the throne of France again. Why, in ashort time all Europe will be in a blaze, and how is England to takethe field again? The greater portion of Wellington's army arescattered over the world--in America, India, and the Colonies. I don'tbelieve there are half a dozen of the old fighting regimentsavailable, and even their ranks are half-filled with raw recruits. Almost all the regiments at home are mere skeletons. Surely they willnever be sending us away at such a moment?"

"That I can say nothing about, " the adjutant replied. "Certainly nocounter orders have reached the colonel this evening. I don't supposeanything will be decided upon for some time. The Powers will allexchange notes and hold councils and spend weeks in talk before theymake up their mind whether anything is to be done, and if so what; andlong before they come to any decision on the subject we shall be onthe other side of the Atlantic, and then, possibly, after all thetrials and monotony of perhaps a two months' voyage, we may land thereonly to be fetched back again. I quite agree with you that England canput nothing worth calling an army in the field, and that it would bemadness to send a fine regiment out of the country at the presentmoment. But everyone knows the lack of wisdom with which we aregoverned, and the miserable slowness of our military authorities. Itis not likely even to occur to any one to countermand our orders, butit will certainly be disgusting in the extreme to have to start justat the present moment. "

"Beside, " another officer said, "it will be maddening to be two monthsat sea without news, and to know that perhaps all Europe is in armsand tremendous events going on and we out of it altogether. "

"I should think nothing will be done just at present, " the major said. "Every country in Europe has been disbanding its armies just as wehave since peace was proclaimed, and it will be a long time before anyof them are ready to take the field in anything like force. EvenNapoleon himself, great organizer as he is, will take some time to putall France under arms again. An army is a machine that cannot becreated in a day. The soldiers have to clothed, arms to bemanufactured, the cavalry to be mounted, the artillery to beorganized, and a field train got together. No, I should say that atleast four months must elapse before fighting begins in earnest. Withanything like a favorable wind we should be across in America in amonth. If orders are sent out a month after we start we may be back intime for the opening ball. Judging from the past, it is likely to be along business unseating Napoleon again, and if we are not in for thefirst of it we may be in plenty of time for a fair share of thefighting, always supposing that the authorities are sufficiently awaketo the merits of the regiment to recall us. "

"How is the wind this evening?" one of the officers asked. 

"It was westerly when we came in, " Lieutenant Desmond said. "Why doyou ask?"

"Why, as long as it blows from the west there is not much chance ofthe transports getting in here. "

"That is so, " the major agreed. "The question for us to consider iswhether we ought to pray for a fair wind or a foul. A fair wind willtake us quickly across the Atlantic and will give us a chance ofgetting back in time. A foul wind may possibly give them time to makeup their minds at the Horse Guards, and to stop us before we start. Itis a nice question. "

"There is no hope whatever, major, that our government will make uptheir minds before the wind changes, not if it blew in one quarterlonger than it has ever been known to do since the beginning of theworld. Especially, as not only they, but all the governments of Europehave to come to a decision. "

"Oh, if we had to wait for that it would be hopeless; but at the sametime, as it must be evident to any individual of the meanest capacitythat something or other for which troops will be required will have tobe done, surely a month ought to be sufficient for the idea to occurto some one in authority that it would be as well not to be sendingsoldiers abroad until matters are finally settled. "

"I agree with you, " the adjutant said. "Therefore I think we had bestdecide that our hopes and wishes shall be unanimous in favor of acontinuance of westerly winds. "

Never were the weathercocks watched more anxiously than they were bythe officers and men of the Twenty-eighth for the next fortnight. Theelements certainly appeared favorable to their wishes, and the windblew steadily from the desired quarter, so that it was not until tendays after they were expected that the two transports which were toconvey the Twenty-eighth to America dropped anchor in Cork harbor. 

Captain O'Connor rejoined the regiment on the evening before thetransports arrived. He walked with two sticks, but this was a measureof precaution rather than of necessity. 

"I feel like an impostor, " he said, laughing, as he replied to thewelcome of his comrades. "I believe I could safely throw away thesesticks and dance a jig; but the doctor has laid his commands on me, and my man, who has been ruling me with a rod of iron, will not permitthe slightest infringement of them. He seems to consider that he isresponsible for me in all respects, and if he had been master and Iman he could not have behaved with grosser despotism. "

"I am glad to see you looking so well, O'Connor, " Ralph said, shakinghis captain warmly by the hand. 

"I don't know whether I do right in shaking hands with you, Conway, "O'Connor said. "I have been thinking it over while I have been lyingthere, and I have come to the conclusion that it's you I have to thankfor this affair altogether. "

There was a general laugh. "How do you make that out?" Ralph asked. 

"It's clear enough, now my eyes are opened. It was you who discoveredthat passage, and when you did so you said at once to yourself, now, Iwill get O'Connor and Desmond to go down this place, they are safe tobreak their necks, and then I shall get all the honor and glory of theaffair. And so it came about. There were Desmond and I lying on thetop of each other with the breath knocked clean out of our bodies, while you were doing all the fighting and getting the credit of theaffair. I appeal to all friends here if it is not a most suspiciousaffair. "

There was a chorus of agreement. "We did not think it of you, Conway;""A most disgraceful trick;" "Ought to be sent to Coventry;" "Ought tobe drummed out of the regiment;" mingled with shouts of laughter. 

"By the way, the trial of those fellows comes on next week, " one ofthe officers said when the laughter subsided; "so if the transportsdon't come in you will be able to see the last of them, O'Connor. "

"I shall have no objection to see that red rascal hung; but as to theother poor devils, I should be glad enough for them to get off. AnIrish peasant sees no harm in making whisky, and it's only humannature to resist when you are attacked; beside it was the RedCaptain's gang that set them to fighting, no doubt. If it hadn't beenfor them I don't suppose there would have been a shot fired. I hopethat's the view the authorities will take of it. "

As it turned out this was the view taken by the prosecuting counsel atthe trial. The Red Captain was tried for the murder of his officer andfor the shooting of two constables in Galway, was found guilty, andhung. The others were put on trial together for armed resistance tohis majesty's forces, and for killing and slaying three soldiers. Their counsel pleaded that they were acting under the compulsion ofthe gang of desperadoes with them, that it was these and these onlywho had fired upon the soldiers as they ascended the rocks, and thatthe peasants themselves had no firearms; indeed, it was proved thatonly five guns were found in the cave. He admitted that in theirdesperation at the last moment the men had defended themselves withpikes and bludgeons; but this he urged was but an effort of despair, and not with any premeditated idea of resisting the troops. He pointedout that as all the soldiers had fallen by gunshot wounds, none of theprisoners at the bar had any hand in their death. The counsel for thecrown did not press for capital sentences. Two of the men, who hadbefore suffered terms of imprisonment for being concerned in runningillicit stills, were sentenced to transportation. The others escapedwith terms of imprisonment. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

THE NEW HOUSEMAID. 

"What do you think of the new housemaid, Charlotte?"

"As she has only been here twenty-four hours, " Miss Penfold replied, "I don't think I can say anything about it, Eleanor. All servantsbehave decently for the first week or two, then their faults begin tocome out. However, she seems quiet in her way of going about, and thatis something. My room was carefully dusted this morning. These are theonly two points on which I can at present say anything. "

"I met her in the passage this morning, " Eleanor Penfold said, "and itseemed to me that her face reminded me of some one. Did that strikeyou?"

"Not at all, " the elder sister replied decidedly. "I am not given tofancies about such things. I saw no likeness to any one, and if I haddone so I should not have given it a second thought. The one pointwith us is whether the woman is clean, quiet, steady, and thoroughlyup to her work. Her reference said she was all these things, and Ihope she will prove so. She is older than I like servants to be, thatis, when they first come to us. A young girl is teachable, but when aservant has once got into certain ways there is never any alteringthem. However, if she knows her work it does not matter; and there'sone comfort, at her age she is less likely to be coming to us one dayor other soon and saying that she wants to leave us to get married. "

The new servant, Anna, as she was called in the house soon settleddown to her duty. Miss Penfold allowed that she knew her work and didit carefully. The servants did not quite understand the newcomer. Shewas pleasant and friendly, but somehow "she was not, " as one of themsaid, "of their sort. " This they put down partly to the fact that shehad been in service in London, and was not accustomed to country ways. However, she was evidently obliging and quiet, and smoothed away anyslight feeling of hostility with which the under housemaid was atfirst disposed to feel against her for coming in as a stranger overher head, by saying that as she had no acquaintances in the villageshe had no desire to go out, and that whenever her turn came to do sothe other might take her place. As Jane was keeping company with theblacksmith's son, this concession greatly pleased her; and although atfirst she had been disappointed that she had not on Martha's leavingsucceeded to her place, the fact that she was but twenty-one, whilethe newcomer was a good many years her senior, went far to reconcileher to being passed over. 

Mrs. Conway had not been twenty-four hours in the house before shediscovered there was an obstacle in the way of her search that she hadnot foreseen. She had dusted the drawing-room and dining-room, andthen went to the door of the room which she supposed to be thelibrary. She found it locked. At dinner she asked the other housemaidwhat the room opposite the dining-room was, and where was the key. 

"That was master's library, " the girl said. "Miss Penfold always keepsit locked, and no one is allowed to go in. It's just as he left it; atleast Martha said so, for I have never been inside since. On the firstday of each month it is opened and dusted. Miss Penfold always used togo in with Martha and stay there while she did the work. She said itwas to see that nothing was moved, but Martha used to think there wasanother reason. "

"What is that?" Mrs. Conway asked. 

Jane shook her head and glanced at the butler, as much as to say shedid not care about speaking before him; but presently when she had anopportunity of talking alone with the newcomer she said: "I didn'twant to say anything before James, he holds with the Miss Penfolds. Heonly came a month or two before master's death and did not know muchabout him, and he will have it they have been ill treated, and thatthe lawyer and all of them ought to be punished for going on as if theMiss Penfolds had done something wrong about the will. Cook, shedoesn't give no opinion; but Martha and me both thought they knewsomething about it, and were keeping Miss Withers and young Conway outof their rights. But I forgot that you were a stranger, and didn'tknow nothing about the will. "

Then she told Mrs. Conway all about the will being missing, and howMr. Tallboys, who had made it for Mr. Penfold, said that all theproperty had been left to Mabel Withers, who was the daughter of theclergyman and a great pet of the master's, and to a boy who had beenstaying there some months before, and whose name was Conway. 

"Well, Martha and me believed that they, " and she nodded toward thedrawing-room, "must know something about it; for Mr. Tallboys wouldhave it that it was stowed away in some secret hiding place, and hasbeen looking for it here and pulling down the wainscotting and allsorts. And, of course, if there was a secret hiding-place the MissPenfolds would know of it as well as their brother. Martha used tothink that the reason why the Miss Penfolds had the room shut up, andwould never let her go into it without one of them being there to lookafter her, was that the hiding-place was somewhere in the library, andthat they were afraid that when she was dusting and doing up she mightcome upon the will. "

The same conclusion had flashed across Mrs. Conway's mind as soon asshe heard that the room was kept locked. 

"If the will is really hidden away, " she said, "it's likely enough tobe as you say; but I shouldn't think two ladies would do such a thingas that. "

"Oh, you don't know them, " Jane said sharply. "They are two regularold cats they are, and hunt one about all over the house as if theythought one was going to steal something. They was fond of theirbrother in their way, but, bless you, they treated him like a child, and he das'ent call his soul his own; and you may be sure they didn'tlike the thought that he had left his money away from them, and thatsome one else would become master and missis of the Hall while theywere living. Martha and me was both of one mind that the old womenwere likely enough to do it if they had a chance. I would give a gooddeal if I could find the will myself just to see their faces;interfering old things. It was only two Sundays ago they told me afterI came out of church that they didn't approve of the ribbons in mybonnet; just as if a girl was to go about as if she was a convict. "

"But you say there were men searching here, Jane. How was it theydidn't find it if it's in the library, and how was it the MissPenfolds allowed them to search?"

"They couldn't help it, " Jane replied. "There was an order from thecourt in London, or a judge or some one, and they couldn't stop it. They went away when the men came and didn't come back till it was allover. I don't know how it was that they didn't find it in the library, for they searched it regular. I was in there two or three times whilethey were at work, and they took out all the books from the shelvesand pulled down a lot of the wood-work and turned it all upside down, but they couldn't find anything. Still, you see, it ain't a likelytale of theirs as they keeps the door locked because they want it tobe just as he left it, when it's all been turned topsy-turvy andeverything put out of its place. 

"That's what Martha and me couldn't get over, though Martha told methey done their best to have it put just as it was; and there's paperand pens on the table, just to pretend it is exactly as it used to beand that no one hadn't been in. As if they cared so much about him. Icall it sickening, that's what I calls it. The Withers don't come herenow. They used to be often here in the master's time, but they are notfriends with them now. Last Sunday the parson he made it hot for them, and preached a sermon about secrets being known and undiscoveredthings coming to light. Of course he didn't say nothing special aboutwills, but they felt it, I could see. Our pew's on the opposite sideof the church, and I could see their faces. Miss Penfold she gotwhite, and pinched up her lips, and if she could have given a piece ofher mind to the parson she would have done so; and Eleanor she got redand looked as if she was going to cry. 

"She is a lot better than her sister, she is; and if any wrong's beendone it's the old one that's done it, I am sure, and Martha alwayssaid so too. I could put up with the younger one very well, but Ican't abide Miss Penfold. "

"I am quite anxious to see the room, Jane, after what you have beentelling me about it. "

"Well, you will see it in about a week. It's always on the first ofthe month that it is done up; and you will see the old woman will goin with you, and watch you all the time like a cat watches a mouse. Martha used to say so, But there--as you are not from this part of thecountry, and she won't think as you know nothing about the will orcare nothing about it, she won't keep such a sharp lookout after youas she did with Martha. "

Upon the following Sunday Mrs. Withers, on the way home from church, asked her husband with some anxiety whether he was not well. "Inoticed you were quite pale in church, James, and you lost your placeonce or twice, and seemed as if you really weren't attending to whatyou were doing?"

"Then I am afraid, my dear, I seemed what I was, for I wastremendously surprised; and though I tried hard to keep my thoughtsfrom wandering I am afraid I succeeded very badly. "

"Surprised, James! What was it?"

"I will tell you, my dear. You know that letter we had a fortnight agofrom Mrs. Conway, and that we puzzled over it a good deal. Aftertalking as usual about her being determined to find the will and setmatters straight, she said that we might possibly see her before long, and begged us not to show any surprise or to seem to recognize her. Well, you know, we talked it over, and could make nothing of it. Now Iknow what she means. "

"What! Did you see her in church to-day, James?"

"I did, Amy; and where do you think she was?"

"I can't guess, James. Why, where could she be, and where can she bestaying if not with us? I didn't see her. Are you sure you are notmistaken?"

"She was sitting behind you, Amy, which will account for your notseeing her. She was sitting in the Penfolds servants' pew, in a plainstraw bonnet and quiet clothes like the others. "

"Among the Penfolds' servants, James! Are you dreaming?"

"Not at all, my dear; there she was, sure enough. I could not possiblybe mistaken. "

Mrs. Withers was silent for some time with surprise. 

"But what can she be doing there, James? Do you mean to say that youthink that she has really gone to service at the Hall?"

"That is what I do think, " the clergyman replied. "You know how shesaid over and over again that she was determined somehow to find thewill. Well, I believe that she has in some way in pursuance of thatpurpose gone as a servant to the Penfolds. Now, my dear, you will notbe surprised that I found it somewhat difficult to keep my thoughtsfrom wandering. "

"No, indeed, James. I am sure if I had been in your place I shouldhave stopped altogether. Well, if that is so, it explains what shesaid in her letter about our not recognizing her; but how could she dosuch a thing, and what will come of it?"

"I have no idea how she managed to get there, Amy; but certainly shemust have managed very cleverly somehow. What she is there to do isclear enough. She is going to search herself for the will. Whether shewill ever find it or not is another matter; but I can hardly believeshe can succeed after the thorough search Tallboys said he made of thehouse. Still that is what she means, I have not a shadow of doubtabout it. "

"I should never have thought for a moment she was the sort of woman toundertake such a thing, " Mrs. Withers said. "Why, she will have to doservant's work, and to run all sorts of risks of being found out, andthen I don't know what they mightn't do to her!"

"I don't see that they could do much, my dear, unless perhaps theyprosecuted her for obtaining the place with a false character, which Isuppose she must have done. Still it required no ordinary pluck for awoman to undertake such a scheme, and it will require patience andnerve to carry it through; but I don't know that I agree with you thatshe is not the sort of woman I should have thought capable ofundertaking such a business. She was quiet enough when we met her inthe town; but I believe from what I have heard that she was ahigh-spirited girl, and when we saw her, you know, she was on the eveof parting with her son. As she was evidently wrapped up in him, thatwould of course make her more quiet and silent than usual. I thoughtshe bore up remarkably well, and admired the effort she made toprevent any display of her feeling marring the pleasant time we werehaving in London. "

"But how about Mabel, James? Had we better tell her about this? Yousee, if she happens to meet Mrs. Conway she might betray hersecret--might run up and address her by her name. "

"That is certainly a difficulty, my dear; and I don't quite know whatto do about it. What do you think yourself?"

"I think we had better postpone the matter, James, by sending Mabelaway for a bit. You know my sister has asked her several times to goand stay with her on a visit at Bath. We have never cared to let hergo away from us; but I do think now that it will be a good thing forme to write to Harriet, and tell her that if it will be convenient forher to take Mabel, we shall be glad to send her to her for a fewmonths in order that she may take lessons in French and music. Thereare, of course, plenty of good masters there. In that way we shall getrid of the necessity for speaking to Mabel about it at all, and Ishould think it likely that Mrs. Conway would have left the Hall longbefore she returns. "

"Perhaps she will, my dear, though I would not count upon that toomuch. I imagine that as Mrs. Conway has had nerve and courage enoughto propose and so far carry out this singular plan of hers, she willhave resolution enough to continue to play her part till she eitherfinds the will, or becomes thoroughly convinced that it is absolutelynot to be found. "

And so Mrs. Withers wrote to her sister, and ten days later Mr. Withers started with Mabel for Bath. 

Mrs. Conway had some difficulty in restraining all show of excitement, and in assuming a passive and indifferent air as upon the first of themonth Miss Penfold unlocked the door of the library and led the wayinto the room. 

"This was my brother's library. You will understand, Anna, that I wisheverything to remain exactly as it is. You will therefore be carefulto place everything as you find it--each article of furniture, and thebooks and papers on the table. You will just sweep the floor and dusteverything. Beyond that we wish nothing done to the room. "

Mrs. Conway began her work quietly. Miss Penfold watched her for somelittle time, and then said:

"You will leave the door open, Anna; it is better to let the aircirculate as much as possible. When the weather gets warmer you willalso leave the windows open while you are at work; but the air is toodamp at present. "

"Would you like me to light a fire to air the room, Miss Penfold?"

"Certainly not, " Miss Penfold said decidedly, "there is no occasionwhatever for it. If I have not returned by the time you have finishedthe room, come and tell me when you have done. I always make a pointof locking the door myself. "

So saying Miss Penfold went out, leaving the door wide open behindher. 

"Have you left her alone there?" Eleanor asked her sister as sheentered the sitting-room. 

"Certainly I have, " Miss Penfold said coldly. "I do wish you would notbe so nervous, Eleanor. The woman can have no interest in this matter. She may have heard of it from the other servants, but it can benothing to her. You know as well as I do that there is no chance ofher stumbling upon it by accident. It was different with the lastgirl. Of course they were always talking about the will, and she mighthave tried, as a matter of curiosity, to find it, or she might havebeen bribed by those Withers or by that man Tallboys; but it isdifferent now. This woman can have no interest in it, and will onlywant to get her work done as soon as possible. My being always in theroom with her as I was with Martha might excite comment. I shouldnever have done it in Martha's case if you had not been so absurdlynervous; for you know very well there was no real danger of her everfinding the place however closely she looked for it. But now there's achange it is quite time to drop it, or a rumor will be getting aboutthat we are afraid of any of our servants remaining for a moment alonein the library. "

"I wish we had never done it. I do wish we had never done it, " Eleanormurmured pitifully. 

"I am ashamed of you, Eleanor, " Miss Penfold said coldly. "You areworse than a child with your laments and complainings. What have wedone? Nothing. We have no certainty that there is a will in existence;and if we had, it's not our business to assist to carry out amonstrous wrong against ourselves, and to put that woman's son asmaster here. How many times have we talked this over, and it's alwaysthe same. You keep on trembling at shadows. "

"I should not care if it was not for the night, Charlotte. I am alwaysdreaming that Herbert is coming to my bedside and looking so stern andangry, and saying, 'Let justice be done. '"

"Bah!" Miss Penfold said contemptuously. "You must eat less supper, Eleanor. If you were not such a coward you would not dream suchthings. I have no patience with your folly. "

"I know it is foolish, Charlotte, but I can't help it; my nerves werenever as strong as yours. I quite agreed with you from the first aboutit. I think it was infamous that Herbert should have passed us over, and that it is not to be expected we should aid in the discovery ofsuch a wicked will. Still I can't help being unhappy about it, andlying awake at night and dreaming. No one can help their dreams. "

"Your dreams are a mere repetition of your thoughts, " Miss Penfoldsaid scornfully. "If you worry while you are awake, you will worrywhile you are asleep. We have done nothing criminal. We have meddledwith no will, nor hidden one. We simply refuse to aid in the discoveryof an unjust document, and by so doing prevent a great wrong beingdone to ourselves. To my mind the thing is perfectly simple, and myconscience wholly acquits me of any wrong-doing. "

Left to herself, Mrs. Conway took an earnest look round the room. Somewhere no doubt within its limits lay the key of the secret thatwould give wealth to Ralph. Where was it? The walls were completelycovered by bookshelves. These were handsomely carved, and dark withage. One of the Penfolds had evidently been a bookworm, and had sparedno pains and expense in carrying out his hobby. The housemaid had saidthat all the books had been removed, and that nothing had been foundbehind them. Still there might well be some spring that had escapedtheir notice. At any rate the ground must be gone over again. 

Then the spring might lie among the carved work of the bookcasesthemselves. This must be gone over inch by inch. That was evidentlythe first work to be done. The mantel and its supports were of richlycarved woodwork. These, too, must be searched. In the first place, however, she had to carry out her work; and laying aside determinatelyall thought of the missing will, she began to dust and sweep. At theend of an hour, when she happened to turn round, she saw Miss Penfoldstanding in the doorway. She had not heard her footstep, and at oncedecided in her mind that it would be necessary to be extremely carefulin her search, as at any moment Miss Penfold might look in upon herwithout warning. 

"Have you nearly finished, Anna?" Miss Penfold asked. 

"It will take me another hour at least to dust the woodwork properly, Miss Penfold. I have done the carpet and furniture. "

Miss Penfold made no remark but went away again. 

"She is not likely to come back for a few minutes, " Mrs. Conway saidto herself. "I think I can safely carry out one of my plans. "

She took from her pocket a ball of thin string, one end of which wasattached to a tiny brad awl. Going into one corner of the room shefixed the brad awl into the woodwork; then, unwinding the ball, proceeded to the other end of the room, straining the string tightly, and tied a knot to mark the length. Then she went back and crossed theroom, and again make a knot to mark the width. Then she hastilygathered up the string, pulled the brad awl from the woodwork, and putthem in her pocket. While she had been carrying this out she retaineda duster in one hand, and dusted the wood work as she moved along, trusting that if Miss Penfold should look in, the string, which was ofa dark color, would be unnoticed by her. However she gave a sigh ofrelief when the operation was complete, and the string and brad awlhidden away. She then continued her work until in about three-quartersof an hour Miss Penfold again appeared. 

"I think that will do very well, Anna; it is quite impossible to getall the dust out of the carving. It would take you all day to go overit, and you would need steps for the upper part. That need only bedone occasionally. " She gave an approving glance round as she noticedthat the new housemaid had carefully placed every article in the exactplace in which she had found it. Mrs. Conway gathered up the broomsand dusters and left the room, Miss Penfold carefully locking the doorafter her. 

"That is something done, " Mrs. Conway said to herself; "and will, Ithink, save me an immense deal of trouble. To-morrow I will measurethe rooms next to it. The passage runs along the side and it is hardlypossible that there can be any receptacle there; the wall is not thickenough for a place of any size. It must be at one end or the other, orelse under the floor. "

The following morning she measured the dining-room, and what was nowknown as the housekeeper's room, but which in years gone by had beencalled the still room; and the following day slipped out of doors assoon as she came downstairs and took the outside measurement of theside of the house, marking on the string the position and width ofeach window. She had only now to make a plan and compare the figures. She found that between the back of the bookcase--for she had taken outa few books to ascertain its depth--and the panel of the dining-roomthere was a thickness of two feet; but between the library and thehousekeeper's room there were fully five feet unaccounted for. 

In both were deep old-fashioned fireplaces back to back; and evenallowing but six inches between these, the depth there would beaccounted for, but on either side of the fireplaces there would be awide space. There were certainly no cupboards visible in the library, for the bookcases extended from the fireplace to the wall on eachside. In the housekeeper's room there were cupboards on each side ofthe chimney-piece, but these were shallow, not being above nine inchesin depth; therefore behind these there was a considerable spaceunaccounted for. It was evident to Mrs. Conway that her first searchmust lie in this direction. Here might lie two chambers each threefeet wide by eight feet long. 

Mrs. Conway's spirits rose at this discovery, and she sighedimpatiently at the thought that another month must elapse before shecould even commence the search. Brooding over the matter continually, there was one point that did not escape her. These old hiding-placeswere made either to conceal proscribed priests or hunted fugitives, and were constructed with the greatest care. As she had so easilydiscovered the spot where a hidden room might be situated, it would bediscovered with the same ease by those who were on the search forfugitives, and who would naturally be well acquainted with thepositions where hiding-places would be likely to be situated. Themoment they looked into the cupboard, its shallowness would suggest tothem that there must be a wide empty space behind it, and by settingto work with axes, picks, and crowbars, they would soon discover byforce the secret she was trying to penetrate by stratagem. 

This reflection considerably damped her hopes; but she thought thatpossibly from this easily-discoverable hiding-place there might besome access, much more difficult to trace, to another lying below. Atany rate she determined that if she did find the secret entrance tothese little rooms, and found that they were empty she would not bedisheartened, but would search further until she found either somesecret closet where the will might be placed, or an entrance to someperhaps larger hiding-place below. Her subsequent search outsideshowed her that there existed several small iron gratings about sixinches long and three deep, close down to the soil of the border. Nodoubt these were intended to give ventilation underneath the floors, which were some two feet above the outside level, but one of themmight also afford ventilation to an underground chamber. 

Three months passed, and on the occasion of each of her visits to theroom she devoted some time to the examination of the carved woodworkround the fireplace and that of the bookcases, but without making anydiscovery whatever; and it became evident to her that a far closersearch would be needed than the short and hasty examination that wasall she dared to make, with the possibility that at any moment MissPenfold might appear at the door. Accordingly she wrote to Mr. Tallboys, and told him that it would be necessary for her to obtain acake of very soft wax, four inches long and two inches wide, and askedhim to procure it for her, and to send it in a wooden box to her bythe carrier's cart that once a week journeyed from Weymouth to thevillages in the neighborhood of the Hall. 

Ten days later she received the wax, and the next time the day forcleaning the library arrived she quietly withdrew the key from thedoor as soon as Miss Penfold had left her, laid it on the wax, andpressed it steadily until a deep impression was made upon its surface. Then she carefully examined the key to see that no particle of wax hadstuck between the wards, replaced it in the door, closed the lid ofthe little box in which the wax lay, and put it in her pocket, andthen set to at her work of cleaning. 

Upon this occasion she spent no time in trying to find the spring. There was danger now as always of Miss Penfold's coming, and as shewould soon have the means of entering the room at her will she wouldrun no risk. A few days later she asked for a day to go to Weymouth topurchase some things of which she had need, and when there she calledupon Mr. Tallboys. 

"How are you, Mrs. Conway?" the lawyer said when the door had closedbehind her. "Have you come to tell me that you give up the search ashopeless?"

"Not at all, " she replied with decision. "I told you in my letter thatI had discovered the probable position of the hiding-place, and toldyou of the difficulties there were in making a thorough search for itowing to the room being always kept locked. I have come now to ask youto get a key made from this, " and she produced the wax. "It would besuspicious if I were to go to a locksmith here and ask for such athing; he would think at once that I was a servant who wanted to robmy mistress. But of course it will be different with you. Beside, Ithought that if you did not like to get it done here, you might sendthe wax up to London and get the key made there. "

"This is becoming more and more serious, Mrs. Conway, " Mr. Tallboyssaid gravely. "Nothing very terrible could happen to you beyond beingturned out of the house even were it discovered who you really are;but if you were found at night, and I suppose your intention is towork at night, in the library, with a false key in your possession, you might be arrested for an attempt at theft, and could only clearyourself by explaining before the magistrates who you were, and withwhat motive you were acting, which would give rise to much unpleasanttalk, would render any pursuance of your plan impossible, and mightnot improbably induce these women to destroy the will, if they havenot already done so. "

"I am quite convinced they have not done that, Mr. Tallboys. Theanxiety they have about any one entering the room, and the manner inwhich Miss Penfold pops in occasionally to see what I am doing, isquite proof in my mind that the will is still in existence; for ifthey had destroyed it, they would have no further anxiety on thesubject. No, I have thought it all over, and must run the risk. Thereis no other way of making a complete search; and in one night there bymyself I could do far more than in a twelvemonths' visits as atpresent. There are two or three more things I wish you would procurefor me. I want a man's coat and cap, rough ones, such as a burglarmight wear. You see, if by any chance I am met by those women goingdownstairs, or returning to my room, I must give them a start. Dressedup like that, and with a piece of crape over my face, I should betaken for a burglar. I don't think Miss Penfold is very easilyfrightened; but at the same time I fancy I might alarm her intoreturning to her room, and should be able to get back to mine beforethe house was roused. I shall always unfasten a window on the groundfloor and lift it a little, so that it would be supposed that theintruder entered and escaped that way. "

Mr. Tallboys smiled a little, but said, "It is a very risky business, Mrs. Conway. Miss Penfold is just the sort of woman to keep pistols inher bedroom. "

"One must risk something when one is fighting for a fortune, " Mrs. Conway said quietly. "I hope that I shall not be heard. There arealways creakings and noises in an old house like that. The doors arethick and well fitting, and there is little chance of my footstepsbeing heard. It is only by an accident, such as one of them beingunable to sleep and getting up and walking over the house, that theyare likely to run against me, and it is not probable she would have apistol in her hand then. No, I do not think there is the least fear ofanything of that sort. The only fear I have is of being detected insome other way before I have done what I have to do, and the risk ofthat grows less and less every day. 

"I have been there over four months now, and am perfectly at home. Iwas at first afraid of a sudden meeting with Mr. Withers, or his wife, or Mabel; but that has passed away now. I saw he recognized me thefirst Sunday in church, and I wrote to him; of course sending theletter to Dover to be sent back from there. He answered me praying meto give up what he called my mad-brained attempt, and saying it madehim and his wife quite unhappy to think of my being at the Hall. Hetold me that at present they had not told Mabel that I was there, buthad sent her away to school at Bath. She is with an aunt, and will notbe home again for some months; so I am safe from her. No, I am not inthe least anxious about myself. I cannot say as much about Ralph. Hisregiment has just gone out to Belgium, and I suppose there will befighting presently. I think of that more now than I do of this will, Mr. Tallboys. If I had known what was coming, I would not have begunthis search until it was all over. What use would it be for me to findthe will if anything happened to him. "

"It is clearly of no use my trying to dissuade you from carrying outyour plans, Mrs. Conway; and although I cannot altogether approve ofthem, I will do my best to help you as far as lies in my power, andyou shall have the key down very shortly. How shall I send it over?"

"I have ordered a dress and some other things at Wilson's in the HighStreet. The dress has to be made up, and will not be ready for a week. I have told them there will be three or four other parcels, which theyare to put in the box and send it on by the carrier. I have ordered apair of boots to be made for me and one or two other things, and toldthem not to close the box until this day fortnight, by which time allthe other things I have ordered will be sent in to them. I hope youwill have got the key before that. "

"Oh, yes, I should think it would be done in a week at latest. Youcertainly deserve success, Mrs. Conway, for you seem to provide forevery contingency. "

CHAPTER XV. 

IN BELGIUM. 

There was a general feeling of depression in the regiment when it wasknown that the transports had arrived in harbor. As a rule regimentsembarking for service abroad start in high spirits, and whateverprivate regrets are felt at parting from friends, the troops marchgayly down to the point of embarkation. But this was not the case asthe Twenty-eighth with the band at its head playing "The girl I leftbehind me, " passed through the streets of Cork on its march down tothe spot ten miles away where the transports were lying. There was notone from the colonel down to the youngest drummer-boy but felt that hehad been deprived of the chance of taking part in a stirring campaign, and that he was going into a sort of exile. The baggage had been senton the previous day, and the regiment on arriving at the harbor wasspeedily transferred in large lighters to the two transports. 

"They are two fine ships, anyhow, " Captain O'Connor said to Ralph asthe barge carrying his company approached the side of one of them. "Rather different craft to that in which we made our last voyagetogether. We shall have comfortable quarters on board her, and oughtto make a pleasant passage if we have but decent weather. "

"Yes, if anything could make our voyage pleasant under thecircumstances, " Ralph replied dismally. 

"Oh, it's no use thinking any more about that, " O'Connor saidcheerfully. "We must make the best of matters, and hope that we shallsoon be on our way back again; if not, I dare say we shall have apleasant time in Canada. With your knowledge of French, Conway, youwill make a great hit among the fair Canadians. "

"I didn't think of that, " Ralph laughed. "Yes, the prospect is acheering one. I promise you, O'Connor, that I will do the best I canfor you. Well, here we are alongside. "

"Good afternoon, captain. When are we going to sail?" O'Connor askedthe master of the vessel as he stepped on deck. 

"You must ask the clerk of the weather, " the skipper replied. "Atpresent there is not a breath of wind stirring, and from the look ofthe sky I see no chance of a change at present. "

Day after day passed, and still the vessels remained at anchor. Not abreath of wind stirred the water, and the troops had nothing to do butto lounge idly about the decks and whistle for a breeze. Whenever avessel came in from England boats were lowered and rowed alongside toget the latest news. This was little enough. It was, however, knownthat all the powers had determined to refuse to recognize Napoleon asEmperor of France, and that a great coalition against him was beingarranged. There were rumors that Belgium was likely to be the scene ofoperations. 

Already, by the terms of the late treaty, several English regimentswere stationed on the Belgian frontier, and three or four more werealready under orders to embark for that country. It was reported thatRussia, Austria, and Prussia were taking steps to arm. The militia hadbeen called out at home, and high bounties were offered for volunteersfrom these regiments into the line. Recruiting was going on vigorouslyall over the country. Horses were being bought up, and efforts made toplace the attenuated regiments on a war footing. All this wastantalizing news to the Twenty-eighth. The colonel was known to havewritten to influential friends in London, begging them to urge uponthe authorities the folly of allowing a fine regiment like his toleave the country at such a moment. But little was hoped from this, for at any moment a change in the weather might place them beyond thepossibility of a recall. 

Three weeks passed and then the barometer fell, and there were signsof a change. There was bustle and movement on board the ships, andeven the soldiers were glad that the monotony of their imprisonment onboard was about to come to an end, and their voyage to commence. Thesails were loosed from their gaskets, and the sounds of the drum andfifes struck up as the capstans were manned, the soldiers lending ahand at the bars, and the chains came clanking in at the hawse-holes. 

"There is a vessel coming in round the point, " O'Connor said. "But weshall hardly get the last news; we shall be under way before sheanchors. "

"She is signaling to the fort on the hill, " Ralph said, as he watchedthe flags run up on the signal-staff on the summit of Spike Island;"and they are answering down below there at the station in front ofthe commandant's house. "

A moment later a gun was fired. 

"That's to call our attention, I think, " the skipper said, taking uphis glass and directing it to the shore. "Yes, there is our numberflying. Get the signal-book, boy. Mr. Smith, run up the answeringpennant. "

As soon as this ascended the flags on shore were lowered, and a freshset run up--3. 5. 0. 4. 

"Give me the book. 'The vessels are not to sail until furtherorders, '" he read aloud. 

"Hooray, lads!" Captain O'Connor shouted at the top of his voice. "Weare stopped until further orders. "

A loud cheer broke from the troops, which was echoed by a roar fromthe other vessel; and for a few minutes the greatest excitementreigned. The men threw their caps into the air, and shouted until theywere hoarse. The officers shook each other by the hand, and all werefrantic with delight at the narrow escape they had had. 

As soon as the brig had dropped anchor boats rowed off to her, butnothing further was learned. Just as she was leaving Plymouth anofficer had come on board with dispatches, and instructions to thecaptain to signal immediately he arrived at Cork that if theTwenty-eighth had not already sailed they were to be stopped. Owing tothe lightness of the wind the brig had been eight days on her passagefrom Plymouth. 

For another fortnight the regiment remained on board ship. Theimprisonment was borne more patiently, now they felt sure that theywere not at any rate to be sent across the Atlantic. Then a vesselarrived with orders that the Twenty-eighth were at once to proceed toOstend, and two hours afterward the transports set sail. 

Belgium was hardly the spot which the troops in general would haveapproved of as the scene of operations, for the disastrous expeditionto Walcheren was still fresh in mens' minds. They would, moreover, have preferred a campaign in which they would have fought withoutbeing compelled to act with a foreign army, and would have had all thehonor and glory to themselves. Still Belgium recalled the triumphs ofMarlborough, and although every mail brought news of the tremendousefforts Napoleon was making to reorganize the fighting power ofFrance, and of the manner in which the veterans of his former wars hadresponded to the call, there was not a doubt of success in the mindsof the Twenty-eighth, from the colonel down to the youngestdrummer-boy. 

Ralph was sorry that he had not been able to pay a flying visit to hismother before his departure on active and dangerous service. 

He had been somewhat puzzled by her letters ever since he had beenaway. They had been almost entirely devoted to his doings, and hadsaid very little about herself beyond the fact that she was inexcellent health. She had answered his questions as to his variousfriends and acquaintances in Dover; but these references had beenshort, and she had said nothing about the details of her daily life, the visits she paid, and the coming in of old friends to see her. Shehad evidently been staying a good deal, he thought, with the Withers, and she kept him fully informed about them, although she did notmention when she went there or when she had returned. 

She frequently spoke about the missing will, and of her hopes it wouldsome day be recovered; and had mentioned that the search for it wasstill being maintained, and that she felt confident that sooner orlater it would come to light. But even as to this she gave him nospecific details; and he felt that, even apart from his desire to seehis mother, he should greatly enjoy a long talk with her, to find outabout everything that had been going on during his absence. 

Mrs. Conway had indeed abstained from giving her son the slightestinkling of the work upon which she was engaged; for she was sure hewould be altogether opposed to her plan, and would be greatlydisturbed and grieved at the thought of her being in any menialposition. Whether if, when he returned, and she had not attained theobject of her search she would let him know what she was doing she hadnot decided; but she was determined that at any rate until he camehome on leave he should know nothing about it. 

"So we are going to fight Bony at last, Mister Conway, " Ralph'sservant said to him. "We've never had that luck before. He has alwayssent his generals against us, but, by jabbers, he will find that hehas not got Roosians and Proosians this time. "

"It will be hot work, Denis; for we shall have the best troops ofFrance against us, and Napoleon himself in command. "

"It's little we care for the French, your honor. Didn't we meet themin Spain and bate them? Sure, they are are hardly worth counting. "

"You will find them fight very much better now they have their emperorwith them. You know, Wellington had all his work to beat them. "

"Yes, but he did bate them, your honor. "

"That's true enough, Denis; but his troops now are old soldiers, mostof whom have been fighting for years, while a great part of our forcewill be no better than militia. "

"They won't fight any the worse for that, your honor, " Denis saidconfidently. "We will bate them whenever we meet them. You see if wedon't. "

"We will try anyhow, Denis; and if all the regiments were as good asour own I should feel very sure about it. I wish, though, we weregoing to fight by ourselves; we know what we can do, but we do notknow how the Belgians and Dutch and Germans who will be with us can bedepended upon. "

"If I were the duke I wouldn't dipend on them at all, at all, yourhonor. I would just put them all in the rare, and lave our fellows todo the work. They are miserable, half-starved cratures all themforeigners, they tells me; and if a man is not fed, sure you can'texpect him to fight. I couldn't do it myself. And I hope the dukeain't going to put us on short rations, because it would be murtherentirely on the boys to make them fight with impty stomachs. "

"I fancy we shall be all right as to that, Denis. I expect that weshall wait quiet till the French attack us, and waiting quiet meansgetting plenty of food. "

"And dacent food, I hope, your honor; not the sort of thing they saythem foreigners lives on. Denis Mulligan could live on frogs andsnails as well as another, no doubt; but it would go sorely againstme, your honor. "

"I don't think there's much chance of your having to live on thatDenis. You will get rations there just the same as you did in Spain. "

"What! beef and mutton, your honor? I suppose they will bring themacross from England?"

"They may bring some across, Denis; but I suppose they will be able tobuy plenty for the supply of the army out there. "

"What! have they got cattle and sheep there, your honor?" Denis askedincredulously. 

"Of course they have, Denis; just the same as we have. "

"The hathens!" Denis exclaimed. "To think that men who can get beefand mutton should feed upon such craturs as snails and such like. It'sdownright flying in the face of Providence, your honor. "

"Nonsense, Denis; they eat beef and mutton just the same as we do. Asto the frogs and snails, these are expensive luxuries, just as game iswith us. There is nothing more nasty about snails after all than thereis about oysters; and as to frogs they were regarded as great daintiesby the Romans, who certainly knew what good eating was. "

"Sure, I am a Roman myself, your honor--so are most of the men of theregiment--but I never heard tell of sich a thing. "

"Not that sort of Roman, Denis, " Ralph laughed. "The oldRomans--people who lived long before there were any popes--a peoplewho could fight as well as any that ever lived, and who were as fondof good living as they were of fighting. "

"Well, your honor, there is no accounting for tastes. There wasBridget Maloney, whom I courted before I entered the regiment. Well, your honor, if you would believe it, she threw over a dacent boy likemyself, and married a little omadoun of a man about five feet high, and with one shoulder higher than the other. That was why I took tosoldiering, your honor. No, there is no accounting for tastes anyhow. There's the mess-bugle, your honor. Next time we hear it, it will beat say, and maybe there won't be many ready to attind to it. "

Denis' prediction was verified. The vessel sailed at two o'clock inthe afternoon, and by six was rolling heavily, and a brisk wind wasblowing. The Twenty-eighth had not long before made the voyage fromthe south of France, but they had been favored by exceptionally fineweather, and had experienced nothing like the tossing they were nowundergoing. The consequence was that only about half a dozen officersobeyed the bugle call to mess. 

There was a general feeling of satisfaction when the low coast roundOstend was sighted, for the voyage throughout had been a rough one. Under certain circumstances a sea voyage is delightful, butconfinement in a crowded transport in rough weather is the reverse ofa pleasant experience. The space below decks was too small toaccommodate the whole of the troops, and a third of their number hadto be constantly on deck; and this for a ten days' voyage in a heavysea, with occasional rain-showers, is not, under ordinarycircumstances, calculated to raise the spirits of troops. But menbound on active and dangerous service are always in the highestspirits, and make light of disagreeables and hardships of all kinds. 

They had expected to find Ostend full of troops, for several regimentshad landed before them; but they soon found they were to be marchedinland. As soon as the regiment had landed they marched to a spotwhere a standing camp had been erected for the use of troops on theirpassage through. Their baggage was at once sent forward, and the menhad therefore nothing to do but to clean up their arms andaccoutrements, and to wander as they pleased through the town. Theystarted early next morning, and after two days' marching arrived atGhent, where several regiments were quartered, either in the townitself or in the villages round it. Ralph's company had billetsallotted to them in a village a mile from the town, a cottage beingplaced at the disposal of the captain and his two subalterns. The nextmorning, after the parade of the regiment was over, most of theofficers and many of the men paid a visit to the town, where thefugitive King of France had now established his court. 

Ralph, who years before had read the history of Ghent, was greatlyinterested in the quaint old town; though it was difficult to imaginefrom the appearance of its quiet streets that its inhabitants had oncebeen the most turbulent in Europe. Here Von Artevelde was killed, andthe streets often ran with the blood of contending factions. Was itpossible that the fathers of these quiet workmen in blouses, armedwith axes and pikes, had defeated the chivalry of France, and all butannihilated the force of the Duke of Anjou? What a number of conventsthere were! The monks seemed a full third of the population, and itwas curious to hear everyone talking in French when the French werethe enemy they were going to meet. The populace were quite asinterested in their English visitors as the latter were with them. TheEnglish scarlet was altogether strange to them, and the dress of themen of the Highland regiment, who were encamped next to theTwenty-eighth, filled them with astonishment. 

For a fortnight the regiment remained at Ghent, then they with someothers of the same division marched to Brussels, and took up theirquarters in villages round the town. The Twenty-eighth belonged toPicton's division, which formed part of the reserve concentrated roundBrussels. The first army corps, consisting of the second and thirddivisions of Dutch and Belgians, and the first and third of theBritish, extended from Enghien on the right to Quatre Bras on theleft. The first British division were at the former town, the thirdbetween Soignies and Roeulx, while the Belgians and Dutch lay betweenNivelles and Quatre Bras. 

The second army corps held the ground on the right of the first, andextended to Oudenarde on the Scheldt. The cavalry, with the exceptionof the Brunswick brigade, were posted at Grammont, Mons, and Roeulx, their outposts being thrown forward as far as Maubeuge and Beaumont. The Prussians were on the left of Wellington's force, and extendedfrom Ligny through Namur toward Liege, their advanced posts being atCharleroi, where Zieten's division had their headquarters. Butalthough the allied armies thus formed together the arc of a largecircle covering Brussels, they were entirely distinct. The Britishdrew their supplies from Ostend, on the right of their position, whileLiege on the extreme left was the base of the Prussians. 

Napoleon's movements were uncertain. He might either advance uponNamur and cut off the Prussians from their base, or between Grammontand Oudenarde, by which measure he would similarly cut the British offfrom Ostend; or he might advance from Charleroi direct upon Brussels, breaking through at the point where Wellington's left joined thePrussian right. The Duke of Wellington believed that he would attemptthe second of these alternatives, as in that case he would fall uponthe British before the Prussians could come up to their assistance, and if successful would not only cut them off from the base ofsupplies, but would be able to march straight upon Brussels. It was todefeat this plan that the duke posted the largest proportion of hisBritish troops along the frontier, holding, however, two Britishdivisions and the Brunswick and Nassau troops in and round Brussels, where they were nearly equidistant from any point that could beattacked, and could be moved forward as soon as the enemy's intentionsbecame manifest. 

By the time that the whole of the forces were assembled Wellington hadninety thousand men under his orders; Blucher, the Prussian general, had one hundred and sixteen thousand; while Napoleon had one hundredand twenty-five thousand with which to encounter this vastly superiorforce. Upon the other hand, Napoleon's were all veteran troops, andthe French had for a long time been accustomed to victory over thePrussians. Of Wellington's force fully a half were of mixednationalities: Belgians, Dutch, Brunswickers, and Hessians; while hisBritish division consisted chiefly of young troops, so hastily raisedthat a great number of them absolutely fought at Waterloo in theuniforms of the militia regiments from which they had been drafted. 

It seemed, however, a well-nigh desperate enterprise for Napoleon toattack so greatly superior a force. But he had, in fact, no choice butto do so; for Russia and Austria were arming, and their forces wouldsoon be advancing upon France, and it was therefore necessary ifpossible to defeat the British and Prussians before they could arrive. Could he succeed in doing this the enthusiasm that would be excited inFrance would enable him vastly to increase his army. In the meantimehis confidence in his own military genius was unbounded, and thehistory of his past was contained many triumphs won undercircumstances far less favorable than the present. 

During the weeks that elapsed while the three great armies wereassembling and taking up their positions, the troops stationed roundBrussels had a pleasant time of it. The city itself was crowded withvisitors. Here were a number of the wives and friends of the officersof the various armies. Here were many of the French nobility, who hadabandoned France upon the landing of Napoleon. Here were numbers ofpeople attracted by curiosity, or the desire of being present at thetheater of great events, together with a crowd of simplepleasure-seekers; for Europe had for many years been closed toEnglishmen, and as soon as peace had been proclaimed great numbers hadcrossed the Channel to visit Paris, and had traveled in Germany, Italy, and Switzerland. 

The news of Napoleon's return to France had occasioned a great scareamong the tourists. A very few days sufficed for the desertion ofParis and other French towns, and so great was the crowd that thepacket-boats between Calais and Dover were insufficient to carry them. Many of the visitors to Paris instead of leaving for England made forBelgium, and were joined there by travelers hurrying back fromAustria, Germany, and other parts of Europe; for none could say whatcourse the events that would follow Napoleon's return from Elba mighttake. At Brussels, however, they felt safe; the distance to Englandwas short, and they could, if necessary, leave at any time. Beside, between Belgium and France twelve thousand British troops had beenstationed in the strong places, in accordance with the terms of thetreaty of Fontainebleau and an agreement made with her allies afterthe fall of Napoleon. 

The streets of Brussels were ablaze with bright colors. Staff-officersin the uniforms of a number of nationalities dashed through thestreets, followed by their orderlies. Now and then two or threegeneral officers, riding at a slower pace and engaged in earnest talk, passed along, while the pavements were occupied by crowds of men andofficers in all the varieties of British, Dutch, Belgian, Brunswick, Hanoverian, Hessian, and Prussian uniforms. Although Belgium had castin her lot with the allies the people were by no means unanimous intheir sympathies; and, indeed, the majority, from their similarityboth in religion and tongue to the French, sympathized with themrather than with the allies, who were for the most part bothProtestant and foreigners. 

Those who entertained these sentiments, however, kept them tothemselves, while the rest fraternized to the best of their power withthe troops, many of whom were quartered in the town. As foramusements, there were for the officers the theaters and an opera, while many of the ladies staying in Brussels kept almost open houses;races and athletic sports were got up for the men. The weather at thelatter end of May and during the early days of June was delightful;and although all knew that the storm might at any moment burst, it wasdifficult to believe while so enjoying themselves that to-morrow theymight be called upon to meet the enemy in deadly conflict. Even DenisMulligan had nothing to complain about in his rations, and allowed toRalph that the Belgians were much more decent people than he hadexpected to find them. 

The months of April and May had passed quietly on the frontier. Thecavalry of the allied army on one side, and the French mountedgendarmerie on the other, maintained a vigilant watch over eachothers' movements, and each endeavored to prevent the passing out ofpersons who might carry news of the intentions and position of theirarmies. But the line was far too long to be strictly watched, andFrench loyalists on the one side and Belgian sympathizers with Franceon the other, managed to pass with sufficient regularity to keep thegenerals informed of the movements of their opponents. 

Wellington, then, was perfectly aware of the gathering of Napoleon'sforces upon the other side of the frontier; but they, like his owntroops were scattered over a long front, and yet there was noindication whatever as to the point where Napoleon was likely to breakthrough. During the past three months large bodies of men had laboredto restore the ruined fortifications of the frontier towns. The moatshad been cleared out and deepened, the walls repaired, and the sluicesrestored, so that in case of necessity a wide tract of country couldbe laid under water. 

These precautions had been specially taken on the right of the Britishposition where Wellington expected Napoleon's attack, and the generalcalculated that with the aid of the obstacles so interposed toNapoleon's advance, the troops stationed there would be able to checkthe tide of invasion until the whole army arrived to their assistance. The country between Brussels and the frontier was reconnoitered, andengineer officers were employed in making sketches of all thepositions that appeared likely to offer special advantages asbattlefields for an army standing on the defense. 

Among others the fields lying in front of the village of Waterloo weremapped, and the spot was specially marked by the duke as one to beoccupied in case the enemy forced a way between the British andPrussian armies. On the 12th of June the Duke of Wellington learnedthat Napoleon and the guards had left Paris for the North, and thenext day the officer in command of the cavalry outposts reported thatthe pickets of French cavalry which had so long faced him haddisappeared, and that he had learned from some French custom-houseofficers that hostilities were about to commence. 

On the 15th of June, Ralph Conway had gone with Stapleton intoBrussels as usual. Everything was going on with its accustomedregularity. A military band was playing in the park. Numbers ofwell-appointed carriages, filled with well-dressed ladies, drove toand fro, and crowds of officers and civilians strolled under thetrees, greeting their acquaintances and discussing the latest gossipof the town. As to the coming of the French, the topic was sothreadbare that no one alluded to it; and no stranger could haveimagined from the aspect of the scene that three great armies werelying thirty or forty miles away in readiness to engage at any momentin a desperate struggle. The great subject of talk was the ball thatwas to be given that evening by the Duchess of Richmond; this wasexpected altogether to outshine any of the other festivities that hadtaken place in Brussels during that gay season. It was about half-pastfour in the afternoon that the young men saw Captain O'Connorapproaching. 

"Can you young fellows keep a secret?" he asked. 

"I think so, " Ralph laughed. 

"I suppose you are both going to the ball?"

"Of course we are. We are both off duty, and Stapleton here is quiteabsorbed in the thought of the conquests he intends to make. "

"Well, the secret is this. It is quite probable you will not go to theball at all. "

"Why! How it that?" the young officers exclaimed simultaneously. "Isthe regiment ordered away?"

"Not yet, lads; but it may be. I have just seen the colonel. He dinedwith the duke at three o'clock. There were a lot of officers there, and the Prince of Orange, who had just come in from the outposts forthe ball, told him that the Prussians at Thuin were attacked thismorning, and that a heavy cannonade was going on when he left. Orderswere issued half an hour ago for the whole of the troops to be inreadiness to march at a moment's notice. There's no saying yet whichway the French may come, and this attack upon the Prussians may beonly a feint; so not a soldier can be moved till more is known. Thefirst division is ordered to collect at Ath to-night, the third atBraine-le-Comte, and the fourth at Grammont. The fifth--that isours--with the Eighty-first and the Hanoverian brigade, and the sixthdivision, of course collect here. All are to be in readiness to marchat a moment's notice. The Prince of Orange is to gather the second andthird Dutch divisions at Nivelles. Of course this first skirmish mayonly be intended to feel our force and positions; but at any rate, itis a sign that the game is going to begin. "

"But if the orders are issued, and the troops are to collect to-night, the secret cannot be kept long. "

"No; by this time the divisional orders will be published, andeveryone will know it in an hour or two. There is really no secretabout it, lads. If there had been the colonel wouldn't have told me, and I shouldn't have told you. See, the news is circulating already. "

A change was indeed taking place in the position of the scene. Theloungers were gathering in little groups, talking eagerly andexcitedly. The orders for the concentration of the divisions hadbecome known, though as yet all were in ignorance as to the reason fortheir issue. The three officers joined some of the groups and listenedto the talk. The general idea was that the duke had heard that theFrench were gathering for an attack, and these measures were merelyprecautionary. It might be days yet before the affair really began. Still it was important news; and there were pale faces among theladies at this sudden reminder that the assembly at Brussels was not amere holiday gathering, but that war, grim, earnest, and terrible, wasimpending. 

"We had better be getting back to our quarters, " Captain O'Connorsaid. "Everything will have to be packed up this evening. "

"But does this mean that the troops are to be under arms all night?"Stapleton asked. 

"That it does, Stapleton. Of course they won't be kept standing inline; but when troops are ordered to be in readiness to march at amoment's notice, on such a business as this, it means that they willall be assembled. Then probably they will be allowed to lie down, andperhaps will light bivouac fires. But it means business, I can tellyou. "

"Then I for one shan't go to the ball, " Ralph said. "No doubt it willbe a pretty sight; but there have been lots of balls, and this bivouacwill be a new experience altogether. "

"I don't know that you are wrong, Conway, " Captain O'Connor said. "Beside, you will probably find the colonel will issue orders thatonly a certain number of officers may go. I shall look in for an houror two just to see the scene. But I don't know many people, and with aroom full of generals and colonels, and three or four men to eachlady, there won't be much chance of getting partners. "

When they reached the village Stapleton said good-by to them, as hiscompany lay half a mile further on; and Captain O'Connor and Ralphentered their quarters. They found their servants busy packing up thebaggage. 

"What is this all about, O'Connor?" Lieutenant Desmond asked. 

"It is in orders that the whole division is to assemble to-night inreadiness to march at a moment's notice. News has come that the Frenchhave attacked the Prussian outposts, and the duke is not to be caughtnapping. Of course it may be nothing but an outpost skirmish; still itmay be the beginning of operations on a grand scale. "

"And there is an order, " Desmond said dolefully, "that only oneofficer in each company is to go to the ball. "

"You want to go--eh, Desmond?"

"Well, of course I should like to go, and so would everyone I suppose, however, it can't be helped; for of course you will go yourself. "

"Well, I have made up my mind to look in for an hour or two. Conwaydoesn't wish to go. I'll tell you how we will arrange, Desmond. Whatthe order means is that two officers must stop with their company. Itdoesn't matter in the least who they are; so that there are two out ofthe three with the men. Dancing will begin about eight o'clock. I willlook in there at nine. An hour will be enough for me; so I will comeback to the company, and you can slip away and stop there till it'sover. "

"Thank you very much, " Desmond said gratefully. 

"And look here, Desmond. You had better arrange with your man to leaveyour undress uniform out; so that when you get back from the ball youcan slip into it and have the other packed up. That's what I am goingto do. I can't afford to have my best uniform spoiled by having tosleep in it in the mud. A captain's pay doesn't run to suchextravagance as that. "

"What will be done with the baggage if we have to march?"

"Oh, I don't suppose we shall march to-night. But if we do, thequartermaster will detail a party to collect all the baggage leftbehind and put it in store. We needn't bother about that; especiallywhen, for aught we know, we may never come back to claim it. "

But although O'Connor did not know it, the duke had by this timereceived news indicating that the attack upon the Prussian outpost wasthe beginning of a great movement, and that the whole French army werepressing forward by the road where the Prussian and British armyjoined hands. 

At daybreak the French had advanced in three columns--the right uponChatelet, five miles below Charleroi, on the Sambre; the center onCharleroi itself; the left on Marchienne. Zieten, who was in commandof the Prussian corps d'armée, defended the bridges at these threepoints stoutly, and then contested every foot of the ground, hiscavalry making frequent charges; so that at the end of the day theFrench had only advanced five miles. This stout resistance enabledBlucher to bring up two out of his other three corps, Bulow, whosecorps was at Liege, forty miles away, receiving his orders too late tomarch that day. The rest of the Prussian army concentrated round thevillages of Fleurs and Ligny. 

Accordingly at ten o'clock in the evening orders were issued byWellington for the third division to march at once fromBraine-le-Comte to Nivelles, for the first to move from Enghien toBraine-le-Comte, and for the second and fourth divisions to march fromAth and Grammont on Enghien. No fresh orders were issued to the troopsround Brussels; and although it was known at the ball that the troopswere in readiness to march at a moment's notice, there were noneexcept the generals and a few members of the staff who had an ideathat the moment was so near at hand. The regiments stationed at adistance from Brussels were assembled in the park by ten o'clock inthe evening; then arms were piled, and the men permitted to fall out. 

Only a few lighted fires, for the night was warm. The artillery, however, who had all along been bivouacked in the park, had theirfires going as usual, and round these many of the troops gathered, butthe greater part wrapped themselves in their cloaks and went quietlyto sleep. Ralph strolled about for an hour or two, chatting with otherofficers and looking at the groups of sleepers, and listening to thetalk of the soldiers gathered round the fires. Among them were manyold Peninsular men, whose experience now rendered them authoritiesamong the younger soldiers, who listened eagerly to the details of thedesperate struggle at Albuera, the terrible storming of thefortresses, and lighter tales of life and adventure in Spain. Many ofthe men whose quarters lay near the scene of assembly had beenpermitted to return to them, with strict orders to be ready to jointhe ranks should the bugle sound. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

FOUND AT LAST. 

As soon as Mrs. Conway received the box she set to work in earnest. Directly the house was still and a sufficient time had elapsed for theMiss Penfolds to have fallen asleep, she rose from the bed on whichshe had lain down without undressing, put on the coat and hat, andmade her way noiselessly down to the library. As she kept the lockwell oiled she entered noiselessly, and then locking the door behindher lighted a candle and commenced her search. On the fifth night shewas rewarded by finding that the center of what looked like a solidlycarved flower in the ornamentation of the mantelpiece gave way underthe pressure of her finger, and at the same moment she heard a slightclick. Beyond this nothing was apparent; and after trying everythingwithin reach she came to the conclusion that it needed a second springto be touched to reveal the entrance. 

It took her another three weeks before she found this. It was a slightprojection, about as large as a button, in the inside of the chimneybehind the mantel. Pressing this and the other spring simultaneously, the bookcase on the left of the fireplace suddenly swung open three orfour inches. For a moment she stood breathless with excitement, hesitating before she entered; then she swung the bookcase open. There, as she had expected, was a little room seven feet long by fourdeep; but, to her bitter disappointment, it was bare and empty. A fewscraps of paper lay on the ground, but there was no furniture, chest, or boxes in the room. The revulsion was so great that Mrs. Conwayreturned into the library, threw herself into a chair, and had a longcry. Then she went back into the room and carefully examined thepieces of paper lying on the ground. One of them was a portion of aletter, and she recognized at once the handwriting of Mr. Tallboys. 

It contained only the words: "My dear Mr. Penfold--In accordance withyour request I send you the--" But above was the date, which was tendays only anterior to Mr. Penfold's death. Mrs. Conway had no doubtthat the word that should have followed the fragment was "will, " andthat this was the letter that Mr. Tallboys had sent over with thatdocument. It was important evidence, as it showed that Mr. Penfold hadbeen in the habit of using this place during his lifetime, and that hehad entered it after he had received the will from his solicitor a fewdays before his death. Why should he have entered it except to put thewill in a place of security? Where that place was she did not know, but she felt certain that it was somewhere within reach of her hand. 

"If it is here it must be found, " she said resolutely; "but I won'tbegin to look for it to-night. It must be three o'clock already, and Iwill think the matter over thoroughly before I begin again. It issomething to have found out as much as I have. I ought to beencouraged instead of being disappointed. "

That day she wrote to Mr. Tallboys, giving him a full account of thediscovery which she had made, and inclosing the fragment of hisletter. She did not renew her search for the next two nights; for herlong watchfulness and excitement had told upon her, and she felt thatshe needed rest before she set about the second part of the search. She received a letter from Mr. Tallboys in reply to that she had senthim:

"MY DEAR MRS. CONWAY: I congratulate you most heartily upon the greatsuccess you have met with. I own that I have never been very hopeful, for after the thorough search we made of the room I hardly thought itlikely that you would succeed when we had failed; however, you havedone so, and I cannot doubt that a similar success will attend yourfurther efforts. In a small bare room such as you describe thedifficulties in the way of finding the hidden receptacle cannot be sogreat as those you have already overcome. You are perfectly correct inyour supposition that the fragment you sent me was part of the letterthat I sent over with the will to Mr. Penfold by my clerk. I havecompared it with the copy in my letter book, and find that it is thesame. As you say, this letter proves conclusively that Mr. Penfold wasin this secret room after he received the will, and one can assign noreason for his going there unless to put the will away in what heconsidered a secure hiding-place. That it is still somewhere there Ihave no doubt whatever, and I shall await with much anxiety news as toyour further progress. "

Thinking the matter over, Mrs. Conway had come to the conclusion thatthe hiding-place could only be under one of the stone flags of thefloor or in the wall against the fireplace, or rather in that part ofit above the fireplace. There would not be thickness enough in thewalls separating the secret chamber from the passage or the rooms oneither side of it; but the chimney would not be of the same width asthe open fireplace below, and there might well be a space theresufficient for a good-sized closet. It was here, therefore, that shedetermined to begin her search. The next night, then, after touchingthe springs and entering the secret chamber, she began carefully toexamine each stone in the wall next the fireplace at a distance aboutfour feet above the ground. 

In five minutes she uttered an exclamation of satisfaction. One of thestones, above eighteen inches square, although like the rest fittingclosely to those adjoining it, was not, like the others, bedded incement. So close was the join that it needed a close inspection to seethat it was different from those around it. Still, upon closeexamination, it was evident that it was not cemented in. Taking out apenknife from her pocket, she found that the joint was too close evento allow this to be inserted for any distance. There was no keyhole orany other visible means of opening it, and she searched the walls invain for any hidden spring. 

For a whole week she continued the search, but without the slightestsuccess, and at last began almost to despair; for at the end of thattime she was convinced that she had passed her fingers again and againover every square inch of the floor and walls within her reach. Completely worn out with her sleepless nights, she determined to takea little rest, and to abstain altogether for a few nights from thesearch. On the third night, however, an idea suddenly occurred to her. She rose at once, dressed herself, and was about to go downstairs, when she thought that she heard a noise below. She returned at once toher room, hid away her hat and coat, and again went to the top of thestairs and listened. 

Yes, she had not been mistaken; she distinctly heard sounds below, and, she thought, the murmur of men's voices. After a moment's thoughtshe returned again to her room, took off her dress and threw a shawlround her shoulders, and then stole quietly down the stairs to thenext floor and knocked gently at Miss Penfold's door. She repeated theknock two or three times, and then heard Miss Penfold's voice askingwho was there. She did not speak, but knocked again. This time thevoice came from the other side of the door. 

"It is me, Miss Penfold--Anna Sibthorpe. "

The door was unlocked and opened. 

"What is it, Anna?"

"There is some one in the house, ma'am; I can hear them moving aboutdown below, and I think I can hear men's voices. "

Miss Penfold came out and listened. 

"Yes, there is some one there, " she said. "Go and call the butler andthe others. I shall be ready by the time you come down. "

In two or three minutes the servants, headed by the butler, who hadarmed himself with a blunderbuss that always hung in his room readyfor action, came downstairs. Miss Penfold came out to meet themhalf-dressed. She had a pistol in her hand. The maids had armedthemselves with pokers and brooms. 

"Have you looked to the priming of your blunderbuss?" Miss Penfoldasked quietly. 

"No, ma'am. "

"Well, then, look now, " she said sharply. "What's the use of having aweapon if you don't see that it's in order?"

"It's all right, ma'am, " the butler said, examining the priming. 

"Well, then, come along and don't make a noise. "

They went downstairs noiselessly, and paused when they reached thehall. The sounds came from the drawing-room. Miss Penfold led the wayto the door, turned the handle, and flung it open. Three men were seenin the act of packing up some of the valuables. They started up withan exclamation. Miss Penfold fired, and there was a cry of pain. Amoment later there was a roar as the blunderbuss went off, thecontents lodging in the ceiling. "Without hesitating for a moment thethree men made a rush to the open window, and were gone. 

"John Wilton, " Miss Penfold said sternly, "you are a fool! I give youa month's notice from to-day. Fasten up the shutters again and all gooff to bed. " And without another word she turned and went upstairs. Asshe reached the landing her sister ran out of her room in great alarm. 

"What is the matter, Charlotte? I heard two explosions. "

"It is nothing, Eleanor. Some men broke into the house, and we havegone down and frightened them away. I did not think it was worth whiledisturbing you, as you are so easily alarmed; but it is all over now, and the servants are shutting up the house again. I will tell you allabout it in the morning. Go to bed again at once, or you will catchcold. Good-night. "

Directly Miss Penfold had gone upstairs a hubbub of talk burst outfrom the female servants. 

"It's disgraceful, John! With that great gun you ought to have shotthem all dead. "

"It went off by itself, " John said, "just as I was going to level it. "

"Went off by itself!" the cook said scornfully. "It never went off ofitself when it was hanging above your bed. Guns never go off bythemselves, no more than girls do. I am surprised at you, John. Why, Ihave heard you talk a score of times of what you would do if burglarscame; and now here you have been and knocked a big hole in theceiling. Why missus has twenty times as much courage as you have. Sheshot straight, she did, for I heard one of the men give a squalk. Oh, you men are pitiful creatures, after all!"

"You wouldn't have been so mighty brave, cook, if Miss Penfold and mehadn't been in front of you. "

"A lot of use you were!" the cook retorted. "Six feet one of flesh, and no heart in it! Why, I would have knocked him down with a broom ifI had been within reach of him. "

"Yes, that we would, cook, " the under-housemaid said. "I had got mypoker ready, and I would have given it them nicely if I could have gotwithin reach. Miss Penfold was just as cool as if she had been eatingher breakfast, and so was we all except John. "

John had by this time fastened up the shutter again, and feeling thathis persecutors were too many for him he slunk off at once to hisroom; and the others, beginning to feel that their garments werescarcely fitted for the cold night air postponed their discussion ofthe affair until the following morning. The next morning afterbreakfast the servants were called into the dining-room, and MissPenfold interrogated them closely as to whether any of them had seenstrange men about, or had been questioned by any one they knew as tovaluables at the Hall. 

"If it had not been for Anna, " she said, when she had finished withouteliciting any information, "the house would have been robbed, and notany of us would have been any the wiser. It was most fortunate that, as she says, she happened to be awake and heard the sounds; and sheacted very properly in coming quietly down to wake me. If the one manin the house, " and she looked scornfully at the unfortunate butler, "had been possessed of the courage of a man the whole of them wouldhave been shot; for they were standing close together, and he couldhardly have missed them if he had tried. 

"If that weapon had been in the hands of Anna, instead of those ofJohn Wilton, the results would have been very different. However, JohnWilton, you have been a, good servant generally, and I suppose it isnot your fault if you have not the courage of a mouse, therefore Ishall withdraw my notice for you to leave. I shall make arrangementsfor the gardener to sleep in the house in future, and you will handthat blunderbuss over to him. I shall write to-day to the ironmongerat Weymouth to come over and fix bells to all the shutters, and toarrange wires for a bell from my room to that which the gardener willoccupy. "

At breakfast Miss Penfold informed her sister of what had taken placethe night before. 

"I shall write, of course, to the head constable at Weymouth to sendover to inquire about it, but I have very little hope that he willdiscover anything, Eleanor. "

"Why do you think that, Charlotte? You said that you were convincedyou had wounded one of the men; so they ought to be able to tracehim. "

"I dare say they would if this had been an ordinary theft; but I amconvinced that it was not. "

"Not an ordinary theft! What do you mean?"

"I have no doubt in my mind, Eleanor, that it was another attempt todiscover the will. "

"Do you think so?" Eleanor said in an awed voice. "That is terrible. But you said the men were engaged in packing up the candlesticks andornaments. "

"Oh, I believe that was a mere blind. Of course they would wish us tobelieve they were simply burglars, and therefore they acted as such tobegin with. But there has never been any attempt on the house duringthe forty years we have lived here. Why should there be so now? IfAnna had not fortunately heard those men I believe that when they hadpacked up a few things to give the idea that they were burglars, theywould have gone to the library and set to to ransack it and find thewill. "

"But they would never have found it, Charlotte. It is too well hiddenfor that. "

"There is no knowing, " Miss Penfold said gloomily. So long as it is inexistence we shall never feel comfortable. It will be much better todestroy it. "

"No, no!" Eleanor exclaimed. "We agreed, Charlotte, that there was noreason why we should assist them to find it; but that is altogether adifferent thing from destroying it. I should never feel happy again ifwe did. "

"As for that, " Miss Penfold said somewhat scornfully, "you don't seemvery happy now. You are always fretting and fidgeting over it. "

"It is not I who am fancying that these burglars came after the will, "Eleanor answered in an aggrieved voice. 

"No; that is the way with timid people, " Miss Penfold said. "They areoften afraid of shadows, and see no danger where danger really exists. At any rate, I am determined to see whether the will really is wherewe suppose it to be. If it is I shall take it out and hide it in themattress of my bed. We know that it will be safe there at any rate aslong as I live, though I think it wiser to destroy it. "

"No, no, " Eleanor exclaimed; "anything but that. I sleep badly enoughnow, and am always dreaming that Herbert is standing by my bedsidewith a reproachful look upon his face. I should never dare sleep atall if we were to destroy it. "

"I have no patience with such childish fancies, as I told you over andover again, " Miss Penfold said sharply. "If I am ready to take therisk of doing it, I do not see that you need fret about it. However, Iam ready to give in to your prejudices, and indeed would rather notdestroy it myself if it can be safely kept elsewhere. At any rate Ishall move it from its hiding-place. We know that it is there andnowhere else that it will be searched for, and with it in my room weneed have no more uneasiness. I can unsew the straw _pailliasse_ atthe bottom of my bed, and when it is safely in there I shall have nofear whatever. "

"Of course you can do as you like, Charlotte, " Eleanor said feebly;"but for my part I would much rather go on as we are. We don't knownow that the will really exists, and I would much rather go onthinking that there is a doubt about it. "

"Very well, then; go on so, Eleanor. You need ask no questions of me, and I shall tell you nothing. Only remember, if I die before you don'tpart with the _pailliasse_ on my bed. "

Mrs. Conway thought a good deal during the day about the events of thenight before, and determined to be more cautious than ever in heroperations; for she thought it probable that Miss Penfold would beeven more wakeful and suspicious than before. She would have left thesearch alone for a few days had it not been for the idea that hadtaken her from her bed the night before. It had struck her then aspossible that the spring opening the secret closet might be in thechimney behind it, and that it was necessary to touch this from theoutside before opening the door of the secret room. 

She was convinced that had there been a spring in the room itself shemust have discovered it, but it never before struck her that it mightbe at the back of the closet. She felt that she must satisfy herselfon this point whatever the risk of discovery. Accordingly at the usualhour she made her way downstairs. She had put the key in the door, andwas in the act of turning it when she heard a noise upstairs. Sheopened the door and stood looking up the stairs. In a moment she saw alight, and directly afterward Miss Penfold appeared at the top holdinga candle in her hand. Knowing she was as yet unseen, Mrs. Conwayentered the library and closed the door behind her. Then she hurriedto the fireplace, touched the two springs, pulled the bookcase openand entered the secret chamber, and closed the bookcase behind her. 

She had often examined the lock, thinking that the secret spring ofthe closet might be concealed here. It was a large old-fashioned one, and moved two bolts, one at the top of the door and one at the bottom. These she had already discovered could be easily opened from theinside. She imagined that Miss Penfold was merely going round thehouse to see that all was secure, and she had, contrary to herpractice, taken the key from the door of the library in order thatMiss Penfold might enter it if she chose. But the thought now flashedacross her that possibly she might intend to open the secret room; andto prevent this she now thrust the barrel of the pistol she carried inbetween the back of the bolt and the piece of iron against which itshot, so that the action of the springs could not throw it out of itsplace. 

Breathlessly she listened. Presently she heard a sharp click in thewall behind her. She had scarcely time to wonder what this meant whenshe heard a sound in the lock close to her. It was repeated again andagain. Then she felt a slight tremor of the door as if somebody wastrying to shake it. Her heart almost stood still. Miss Penfold wasevidently trying to open the chamber; and, though she knew the lockcould not open so long as she held the pistol in the place, she felther breath coming fast and her heart beating. For five minutes theattempts to open the door continued. Then all was still again. 

For half an hour she remained without moving; then, as all continuedquiet, she guessed that Miss Penfold, finding the springs did not act, had returned to her room. She now rose to her feet, drew out her darklantern, and turned to the wall by her side. She gave an exclamationof joy--the stone that she had so long vainly endeavored to move wasswung open. Miss Penfold who of course had the secret, had touched thespring outside before attempting to open the chamber, and the stone, which was set in iron, had swung open on a hinge. In a moment Mrs. Conway explored the contents. The closet was about two feet square bynine inches in depth, and contained two shelves. There were severalpapers in it, and the very first upon which she placed her hand wasmarked "The Last Will and Testament of Herbert Penfold. "

So overwhelmed was Mrs. Conway at this termination to her long searchthat she sank on the ground, and it was some time before she couldcollect herself sufficiently to consider what was her best course. Itwas evident that for some reason Miss Penfold had been about to visitthe secret room to see that the will was still in safety. The failureof the springs to act had, of course, disconcerted her; but she mighttry again in the morning, and would then be able to enter the room, and would discover that the will was missing. 

It was clearly the best course to make off at once. She remembered nowthat she had noticed a tiny hole no bigger than a nail-hole in thedoor, and had found that upon the other side it was just above a rowof books in the shelves somewhat lower in height than the rest, andwas evidently intended to enable the occupant of the chamber to obtaina view of the library, and see whether that room was occupied. Sheapplied her eye to it at once, and saw that all was dark. Concealingthe lantern again beneath her coat, she drew back the bolts gently andstepped out. Then she went to one of the windows, took down the bell, carefully unbarred the shutters, threw up the window and stepped out. 

She sped cross the garden, down the drive, and through the gate, andthen hurried at the top of her speed toward the village. She had goneabout half the distance when she heard a horse's footstepsapproaching. The road ran between two high hedges and there was noplace for concealment. She therefore walked along by the edge of theroad close to the hedge, hoping that the horseman would pass withoutnoticing her. His eyes, however, were too much accustomed to thedarkness. He reined in his horse when he came to her, and a momentlater the light of a small lantern fell on her face. 

"Who are you?" a voice asked, "and where are you going?"

"I am going to the vicarage, " she said, "to see Mr. Withers. "

"A likely story that, " he said. "What is this? A woman with a man'shat and coat! There is something wrong here, " and leaning down hecaught her by the collar. She saw by the light of his lantern that hewas a mounted patrol. 

"It is quite true, constable, " she said. "I have put these things onin a hurry, but I am going to see Mr. Withers on a question of lifeand death. Take me to the vicarage, and if when you get there you findmy story is not true you can lock me up if you like. "

The constable was puzzled. The voice was apparently that of a lady, and yet her attire, and her presence abroad at two o'clock in themorning, was suspicious in the extreme. He paused irresolute. 

"I don't like to disturb the vicar at this time of night, " he said. "Iwill take you to the village lockup and go up to him in the morning. "

"Please don't do that, " she said. "I am a lady, and have a very goodreason for what I am doing. I can promise you that Mr. Withers willnot be angry at being called up; indeed he will be greatly pleased. Come, constable, " she went on, seeing that he hesitated, "I will giveyou a couple of guineas to take me direct to the vicarage. "

"Well, ma'am, " the constable said, "if you are sure Mr. Withers willnot be angry at being called up at such an hour I will take you; butyou know he is a magistrate, and it would never do to play tricks uponhim. "

"There are no tricks, constable. He knows me very well, and will bepleased to see me even at this hour. "

Greatly puzzled over the whole proceeding the constable turned, andstill keeping a firm hold of her collar walked his horse back towardthe village. 

"You really need not hold me so tightly, " Mrs. Conway said. "If Iwanted to get away I could have done so in a moment; for I have apistol in my pocket, and could have shot you the moment you turnedyour lantern away from me. "

Somewhat startled at this information the constable released his hold, satisfied that his prisoner could not escape by speed. As a measure ofprecaution he made her walk a pace or two ahead, and kept the light ofhis lantern upon her while he held his pistol ready for action in hishand in case she should suddenly turn upon him. They went through thevillage, and five minutes afterward entered the gate of the vicarage. On reaching the door Mrs. Conway rang the bell. A moment later awindow above opened. 

"What is it?" a man's voice asked. "Am I wanted anywhere?"

"I am the mounted patrol, sir, " the constable said, "and I have met asuspicious sort of person in the road. She said she was coming to you, and you knew her; and though it didn't seem a likely sort of story, Ithought it better to run the risk of disturbing you instead of takingher to the lockup. "

"It is I, Mr. Withers, " Mrs. Conway said, taking off her hat andstepping out so that the light of the policeman's lantern fell uponher. "Please let me in, I have got it. "

"Good heavens!" Mr. Withers exclaimed, startled out of his usualtranquillity. "It is all right, constable, I will be down in aminute. "

"There, constable, you see I spoke truly, " Mrs. Conway said, andtaking her purse from her pocket she extracted by the light of thelantern two guineas and handed them to the man. 

"Oh, I don't want to take your money, ma'am, " he said apologetically. "You must excuse my not believing you, but it did seem a rum start. "

"You are quite right, constable, " she replied. "The circumstances weresuspicious, and you only did your duty. However, you might have madeit very unpleasant for me if you had chosen to take me to the lockupinstead of bringing me here, and I am very willing to give you what Ipromised you. I can afford it very well, " she said cheerfully, as hestill hesitated, "and I dare say it will be useful to you. "

The man took the money and touched his hat, and sat quiet until thedoor opened, and Mr. Withers in a dressing-gown and holding a candleappeared. 

"You have done quite right in bringing the lady up here, " Mr. Witherssaid; "but you need not go talking about it in the village. "

"Very well, sir; I will say nothing about it. Good-night, sir. Good-night ma'am. "

"My dear Mrs. Conway, what has happened to bring you here at this hourof the night?" Mr. Withers asked as he closed the door behind. "Did Iunderstand you to say that you have got it? Is it possible that youhave found the will?"

"Quite possible, Mr. Withers. Here it is in its envelope, with theseals unbroken. "

"You astound me!" Mr. Withers exclaimed. At this moment Mrs. Withersmade her appearance at the top of the stairs, her husband havingbriefly said as he hurried out of the room that it was Mrs. Conway. 

"Amy, " he said, "here is Mrs. Conway. And, what do you think? she hasbrought the missing will with her. "

With an exclamation Mrs. Withers ran downstairs and threw her armsround Mrs. Conway. "You dear brave creature, " she said, "I have beenlonging to speak to you for the last six months. It seems so unnaturalyour being close to us, and my not being able to see you, And you havereally found the will? I can hardly believe it. How has it all comeabout?"

"Don't bother her, Amy, " Mr. Withers said; for now that the excitementwas past Mrs. Conway was trembling all over, and was scarcely able tokeep her feet. "She is overtired and overexcited. Take her straight upto the spare room and get her to bed. I will make her a tumbler of hotport wine and water. The water is sure to be warm in the kitchen, anda stick or two will make it boil by the time she is ready for it. Wewill hear all about it in the morning. We have got the will safe, andwe have got her; that is quite enough for us for to-night, all therest will keep very well until to-morrow. "

In a few minutes Mrs. Conway was in bed, and after drinking thetumbler of hot negus Mr. Withers had prepared for her she soon fellasleep. 

Mrs. Withers came into the room early in the morning. "My husband saysyou are not to think of getting up unless you feel quite equal to it, and I agree with him; so if you like I will bring breakfast up to you, and then you can go off to sleep again for a bit. "

"Oh, no, thank you, " Mrs. Conway replied. "Now that I am fairly awakeand realize where I am, I am perfectly ready to get up. I could notthink the first moment I opened my eyes where I had got to, andfancied I had overslept myself and should get a nice scolding. "

"You must wear one of my dresses, my dear, " the vicar's wife said. "You have done with that servant's gown for good. I will bring you onein a few minutes. "

In half an hour Mrs. Conway came down in a pretty morning dress ofMrs. Withers'. Mabel had that moment made her appearance in thebreakfast-room. She had returned only a week before from her stay atBath, having positively mutinied against the proposal that she shouldstay there for another six months. She started at the entry of astranger. 

"Don't you know me, Mabel?" Mrs. Conway said, holding out her hand. 

"Why--why--" Mabel exclaimed, "it's Mrs. Conway. When did you come, and what have you been doing to yourself? Why, your hair is quite adifferent color! What does it all mean, mamma?" she asked inbewilderment. 

"Mrs. Conway came last night, Mabel, after you were in bed. "

"But you didn't tell me she was coming, mamma. "

"We didn't know ourselves, dear; she arrived quite unexpectedly. "

"And--" and Mabel stopped. 

"And I have got on one of your mamma's dresses, " Mrs. Conway laughed, interpreting Mabel's look of surprise. "Yes, dear, and as you say, Ihave dyed my hair. "

"But why, Mrs. Conway? It was such a pretty color before. "

"And it will be again some day, I hope, for I am not going to dye itany more. "

"I am glad of that, " Mabel said frankly; "for you look quite differentsomehow. But why did you do it? and why--Is there anything the matter, Mrs. Conway, " she broke off suddenly, "that you come here withoutbeing expected, and are wearing one of mamma's dresses, and have dyedyour hair, and look so different altogether? Have you heard anythingabout Ralph?"

"You will hear all about it presently, Mabel, " Mr. Withers, who hadjust come into the room, said. "You owe a great debt of gratitude toMrs. Conway, as you will hear presently; for she has for six monthsbeen working in the interest of Ralph and you. Now, don't open youreyes so wide, but sit down to the table. After we have had breakfastMrs. Conway will tell us all about it. "

"By the way, Mrs. Conway, have you heard the news?"

"What news, Mrs. Withers?"

"In the newspaper I got yesterday evening it was said that a despatchhad just been received from the Duke of Wellington saying he had newsthat Bonaparte was advancing, and that he had just issued orders forthe troops to march forward to support the Prussians, who were likelyto be first attacked. "

"No, I had heard nothing about it, " Mrs. Conway said, turning pale. "Then there is going to be a battle, and Ralph will be engaged. "

"You must not alarm yourself, " the vicar said. "You know the troopsare very widely scattered, and his regiment may not be up in time;beside, you see, the Prussians are likely to be first attacked, andthey may beat the French before the English get up to join in thebattle. "

"Now, Mrs. Conway, " Mr. Withers said when they had finished breakfast, "please take pity on us and tell us all about it. "

"Is Mabel to go away, or is she to hear it all, James?" Mrs. Withersasked. 

"What do you think, Mrs. Conway?"

"I see no reason whatever against her hearing. Mabel is fast growingup. You are past fifteen now, are you not, Mabel?"

"Yes, Mrs. Conway. "

"Then I think she has a right to hear all about it. She is, after all, the party most interested. "

"Thank you, Mrs. Conway, " the girl said. "Please let us go out intothe garden and sit in the chairs under the shade of that tree. I cansee it is going to be a long story, and it will be delightful outthere; and then papa can smoke his after-breakfast cigar. "

"Very well, Mabel; if your mamma has no objection, I am quitewilling. "

The chairs were taken out into the shade of the tree and the party satdown, Mabel all excitement, for as yet she knew nothing whatever ofwhat had happened, and was puzzling herself in vain as to how Mrs. Conway could have been working in her interest. 

"In the first place, Mabel, " Mrs. Conway began, "I suppose you have noidea why you were sent away to Bath?"

Mabel opened her eyes in surprise. 

"I thought I went there to get lessons in music and French anddancing. "

"Well, you did go for that purpose, but for something else also. Youwere sent away in order that you might not see me. "

"Not see you, Mrs. Conway! Why, you must be joking. Why, papa, whatreason could there possibly be why I should not see Mrs. Conway? Andbeside, you never told me in your letter that she had been here. "

"I have not been here--at least not in this house; but I was in thechurch every Sunday. I was there before you went away, although youdid not see me. I was sitting in the pew with the Hall servants. "

"With the Hall servants!" Mabel repeated in astonishment. "What didyou sit with them for? and where were you staying? and why did youcome to the church every Sunday and not come here?"

"That's just the story you are going to hear, Mabel. You heard ofcourse, that it was Mr. Penfold's intention to leave you half hisestates?"

"Yes, I heard that; and then there was no will found so of course Ididn't get it. "

"No, my dear; but as we all believed that there was such a will, wewere naturally unwilling to let the matter rest. Still, the chance offinding it seemed very remote. You remember we spoke to you about itwhen they offered you that hundred a year. "

"Yes, papa, you told me then that you thought they were keeping me outof my rights, and that was why I ought to refuse to take it. Yes, youdid say they were keeping Ralph out too, and that was partly why youthought I ought not to agree to take the money; and of course Ithought so too, because that would seem as if we had deserted Ralph. "

"Well, Mabel, at that time the chance of our ever hearing anything ofthe will was so remote that I think both your mother and myself hadentirely given up hope, and I am sure we should never have taken anymore steps in the matter. Fortunately Mrs. Conway possesses a greatdeal more energy and perseverance than we have, and when she foundthat we gave it up, and that Mr. Tallboys gave it up, she determinedto take the matter in her own hands. Now she will tell us how she hassucceeded, and you must listen quietly and not ask more questions thanyou can help till she has finished. "

"Well, my dear, " Mrs. Conway went on, "Mr. Tallboys, Mr. Penfold'slawyer, did everything he possibly could to find the will, but hecould not do so; and as my son was with you the person that had beenrobbed, I thought it was my duty to undertake the search myself. "

Mrs. Conway then related step by step the measures she had taken toobtain a situation as servant at the Hall, and then went on to tellthe manner in which she had carried on the search, and how success hadfinally crowned her efforts, her story being frequently interrupted byexclamations and questions from her hearers. 

"What do you mean to do next?" Mr. Withers asked when she concluded. 

"I will ask you to drive me over at once to Weymouth. I shall not feelcomfortable until I have placed the will in Mr. Tallboys' hands; anddirectly I have done that I shall go over to Brussels. I may perhapsget there before any great battle is fought; and I should like to seeRalph before that, if possible, and at any rate be there to nurse himif he was wounded. I shall ask Mr. Tallboys if he can spare time to goacross with me to Brussels. I should not want him to stop there, butonly to take me over. I should think there would be no difficulty inhiring a small vessel at Weymouth to take me to Ostend, especially asmoney is no object now. If Mr. Tallboys cannot spare time himself, hecan send a clerk with me or get somebody who will take me in charge;but at any rate I intend to go by myself if necessary. I do notsuppose it will cause any delay about the will, Mr. Withers; for ofcourse there must be some trouble in having it proved. "

"It can make no difference, Mrs. Conway. I do not give that the leastthought. I will go round at once and tell William to put in thehorses. "

"Mabel and I will go over too, James, " Mrs. Withers said; "we cannotsit quiet all day after this excitement. Beside, I want to hear whatMr. Tallboys says. "

Mr. Withers returned in a few minutes, looking grave. 

"William has just come up from the village, and says that half an hourago a man rode up from the Hall with word that the doctor was to goover at once, for that Eleanor Penfold had just had a stroke or fit ofsome sort and was terribly bad. I am sorry this new trouble hasbefallen them; but they have brought it entirely upon themselves, poorladies. However, justice must be done; but I am sure you will agreewith me, Mrs. Conway, that if the matter can possibly be arrangedwithout exposure and publicity it shall be done so. "

CHAPTER XVII. 

QUATRE BRAS. 

At ten o'clock Captain O'Connor returned and Lieutenant Desmondhurried off. 

"Were you sorry to leave, O'Connor?" Ralph asked that officer. 

"No; I was glad to get away, " he replied. "Knowing as I do that inanother twenty-four hours we may be engaged, and that in forty-eightthe greatest battle of the age may take place, it was horribly sad tolook on at the scene and wonder how many of the men laughing andflirting and dancing so gayly there would be so soon lying stark andcold, how many broken hearts there would be among the women. I feltheartily glad that I had neither wife nor sweetheart there. It is notoften I feel in low spirits, but for once one could not help thinking. Here it is a different thing; we are all soldiers, and whatever comeswe must do our duty and take our chance. But the gayety of that scenejarred upon me, and I could see there were many, especially the oldermen, who were thinking as I did. I dare say if I had found anypartners and gone in for dancing I should have thought but littleabout it; but standing looking on the thoughts came. I think you wereright, Conway, not to go. "

"Have you heard any news of what has taken place to-day?"

"Yes. I was standing by the colonel when Picton came up to him andsaid:

"'There's been sharp fighting on the frontier. Zieten gave the Frencha deal of trouble, and only fell back about six miles. The othercorps, except Bulow's, will all join them to-night. 

"'It is a thousand pities that Zieten did not send off a mountedmessenger to us directly he became engaged. If he had done so we mighthave started at one o'clock to-day, and should have been in line withthe Prussians to-morrow. I suppose he thought Blucher would send, andBlucher thought he had sent; and so between them nothing was done, andwe only got the news at seven o'clock this evening. Nine precioushours thrown away. It is just a blunder of this sort that makes allthe difference between failure and success in war. Had the messagebeen sent, we and the Dutch divisions and the troops from Brainele-Comte might all have been up by the morning. As it is, Blucher, with only three out of his four army corps, has the whole of theFrench army facing him, and must either fall back without fighting orfight against superior numbers--that is, if Napoleon throws his wholeforce upon him, as I suppose he will. It is enough to provoke asaint. "

"'Which will Blucher do, do you think, general?" the colonel asked. 

"'He sends word that he shall fight where he is; and in that case, ifNapoleon throws his whole force on him, he is nearly certain to bebeaten, and then we shall have Napoleon on us the next day. "

"And now, Conway, I think it better to get a few hours' sleep if wecan; for to-morrow will be a heavy day for us, unless I am mistaken. "

It was some time before Ralph slept, but when he did so he sleptsoundly, waking up with a start as the sound of a bugle rang out inthe night air. It was taken up by the bugles of the whole division, and Brussels, which had but an hour before echoed with the sound ofthe carriages returning from the ball, woke with a start. 

With the sound of the bugle was mingled that of the Highland pipes, and in a few minutes the streets swarmed with the soldiers; for therewas scarce a house but had either officers or men quartered in it. Theupper windows were thrown up and the inhabitants inquired the cause ofthe uproar, and soon the whole population were in the streets. Therewas no delay. The soldiers had packed their knapsacks before lyingdown to sleep, and in a quarter of an hour from the sound of a buglethe regiments were forming up in the park. They were surrounded by ananxious crowd. Weeping women were embracing their husbands and lovers;the inhabitants looked pale and scared, and the wildest rumors werealready circulating among them; mounted officers dashed to and fro, bugles kept on sounding the assembly; and the heavy rumble of guns washeard as the artillery came up and took up their appointed position. 

In half an hour from the sound of the first warning bugle the head ofthe column began to move, just as daylight was breaking. Comparativelyfew of the officers of Ralph's regiment were married men, and therewere therefore fewer of those agonizing partings that wrung the heartsof many belonging to regiments that had been quartered for some timeat home; but Ralph saw enough to convince him that the soldier shouldremain a single man at any rate during such times as he is likely tobe called upon for serious service in the field. It was a relief whenthe bands of the regiment struck up, and with a light step the troopsmarched away from the city where they had spent so many pleasantweeks. 

As the troops marched on their spirits rose--and indeed the Britishsoldier is always at his gayest when there is a prospect offighting--the hum of voices rose along the column, jokes wereexchanged, and there was laughter and merriment. The pace was notrapid, and there were frequent stoppages, for a long column cannotmarch at the same pace as a single regiment; and it was ten o'clockwhen they halted at Mount St. Jean, fourteen miles from Brussels. Herethe men sat down by the roadside, opened their haversacks, and partookof a hasty meal. Suddenly there was a cheer from the rear of thecolumn. Nearer and nearer it grew, and the regiment leaped to theirfeet and joined in the shout, as the Duke of Wellington, with abrilliant staff, rode forward on his way to the front. 

Already a booming of guns in the distance told that the troops wereengaged, and there was another cheer when the order ran along the lineto fall in again. 

Fighting had indeed begun soon after daylight. Prince Bernhard whocommanded the division of Dutch troops at Quatre Bras, had commencedhostilities as soon as it was light by attacking the French in frontof him; and the Prince of Orange, who had ridden to Nivelles, directlythe ball was over, brought on the Dutch troops from that town, andjoining Prince Bernhard drove back the French to within a mile ofFrasnes. 

The Duke of Wellington reached Quatre Bras soon after eleven, andfinding that there was no immediate danger there, galloped away tocommunicate with Blucher. 

He found that the latter had gathered three of his corps, and occupieda chain of low hills extending from Bry to Tongres. The rivulet ofLigny wound in front of it, and the villages of St. Armand and Lignyat the foot of the slope were occupied as outposts. These villageswere some distance in front of the hills, and were too far off for thetroops there to be readily reinforced from the army on the heights. The Duke of Wellington was of opinion that the position was not a goodone, and he is said to have remarked to Blucher: "Everyman knows hisown people best, but I can only say that with a British army I shouldnot occupy this ground as you do. "

Had the duke been able to concentrate his force round Quatre Bras intime, he intended to aid the Prussians by taking the offensive; butthe unfortunate delay that had taken place in sending the news of theFrench advance on the previous morning rendered it now impossible thathe should do so, and he therefore rode back to Quatre Bras to arrangefor its defence against the French corps that was evidently gatheringto attack it. 

It was well for the allies that Napoleon was not in a position toattack in force at daybreak. His troops, instead of being concentratedthe night before at Fleurus, were scattered over a considerable extentof country, and many of them were still beyond the Sambre. MarshalNey, who had been appointed to the command of the corps, intended topush through Quatre Bras and march straight on Brussels, had onlyarrived the evening before, and was ignorant of the position of thevarious divisions under his command. Therefore it was not until twoo'clock in the afternoon that Napoleon advanced with sixty thousandmen to attack the Prussians at Ligny, while at about the same hour thecolumn under Ney advanced from Frasnes against Quatre Bras. The delaywas fatal to Napoleon's plans. 

Had the battles commenced at daybreak, Ney could have brushed asidethe defenders of Quatre Bras, and would have been at Mount St. Jean bythe time the English came up. The Prussians would have been beaten bynoon instead of at dusk, and before nightfall their retreat would havebeen converted into a rout, and on the following day Napoleon's wholearmy would have been in a position to have fallen upon the onlyBritish divisions that Wellington could by that time have collected tooppose him, and would probably have been in possession of Brusselsbefore night. 

Thus, while the delay in sending news to Wellington prevented theallies combining against the French on the 16th of June, the delay ofNapoleon in attacking that morning more than counterbalanced theerror. There was the less excuse for that delay, inasmuch as he hadhimself chosen his time for fighting, and should not have advanceduntil he had his whole force well up and ready for action; and as theadvance during the first day's fighting had been so slow, the wholearmy might well have been gathered at nightfall round Fleurus ready togive battle at the first dawn of day. 

Fighting as he did against vastly superior forces, Napoleon's one hopeof success lay in crushing the Prussians before the English--who, ashe well knew, were scattered over a large extent of country--couldcome up, and his failure to do this cost him his empire. 

The artillery fire ceased in front before the column continued itsmarch for Mount St. Jean. The Prince of Orange had paused in hisadvance when he saw how strong was the French force round Frasnes, andNey was not yet ready to attack. Therefore from eleven until two therewas a cessation of operations, and the ardor of the troops flaggedsomewhat as they tramped along the dusty road between Mount St. Jeanand Genappe. 

The Prince of Orange was having an anxious time while the Britishcolumn was pressing forward to his assistance. As the hours went by hesaw the enemy's forces in front of him accumulating, while he knewthat his own supports must be still some distance away Nevertheless, he prepared to defend Quatre Bras to the last. He had with him sixthousand eight hundred and thirty-two infantry and sixteen cannon, while Ney had gathered seventeen thousand men and thirty-eight guns toattack him. The latter should have had with him D'Erlon's corps oftwenty thousand men, and forty-six guns, but these were suddenlywithdrawn by Napoleon when the latter found that the Prussian forcewas stronger than he had expected. They had just reached the field ofLigny when an order from Ney again caused them to retrace their stepsto Quatre Bras, where they arrived just after the fighting there hadcome to an end. Thus twenty thousand men with forty-six guns wereabsolutely thrown away, while their presence with either Napoleon orNey would have been invaluable. 

Soon after two o'clock Picton's division, which headed the column, heard several cannon shots fired in rapid succession, and in anotherminute a perfect roar of artillery broke out. The battle had evidentlybegun; and the weary men, who had already marched over twenty miles, straightened themselves up, the pace quickened, and the divisionpressed eagerly forward. A few minutes later an even heavier and morecontinuous roar of cannon broke out away to the left. Napoleon wasattacking the Prussians. The talking and laughing ceased now. Even theoldest soldiers were awed by that roar of lire, and the younger onesglanced in each others, faces to see whether others felt the samevague feeling of discomfort they themselves experienced; and yetterrible as was evidently the conflict raging in front, each manlonged to take his part in it. 

The officers' orders to the men to step out briskly were given incheerful and confident voices, and the men themselves--with theirfingers tightening on their muskets, and their eyes looking intentlyforward as if they could pierce the distance and realize the sceneenacting there--pressed on doggedly and determinedly. Messenger aftermessenger rode up to General Picton, who was marching at the head ofthe column, begging him to hurry on, for that the Prince of Orange wasstep by step being driven back. But the troops were already doingtheir best. 

The Dutch and Belgian troops had fought with considerable bravery, andhad held the village of Piermont and a farm near it for some timebefore they fell back to the wood of Bossu. Here they make a stoutstand again, but were at length driven out and were beginning to loseheart, and in a few minutes would have given way when they saw on thelong straight road behind them the red line of Picton's column. Theglad news that help was at hand ran quickly through the wood, and theBelgians met their foes with fresh courage. 

Picton's force consisted of the Eighth and Ninth British Brigades, theformer under General Sir James Kempt, the latter under Sir Denis Pack. With them were the Fourth Brigade of Hanoverians, with two batteriesof artillery--the one Hanoverian, the other British. The excitement ofthe troops increased as they neared Quatre Bras, and a loud cheer ranalong the line as they neared the wood, and took their place by theside of the hardly pressed Dutch and Belgians. Pack's brigade consistedof the first battalion Forty-second, second Forty-fourth, firstNinety-second, and first Ninety-fifth, while Kempt had under him thefirst Twenty-eighth, first Thirty-second, first Seventy-ninth, andThird Royals. 

The aspect of the fight was speedily changed now. The French, who hadbeen advancing with shouts of triumph, were at once hurled back, andthe defenders a few minutes later were strengthened by the arrival ofthe greater part of the Duke of Brunswick's corps. In point of numbersthe combatants were now nearly equal, as the allies had eighteenthousand infantry, two thousand cavalry, and twenty-eight guns on thefield. Of these, however, but eight thousand at most were British. Picton at once sent forward the first battalion of the Ninety-fifth, and these cleared a little wood in the front of Piermont of the Frenchlight troops, and restored the communication between Quatre Bras andLigny. 

Ney, however, was preparing to advance again in force. His front wascovered with a double hedgerow, which afforded admirable shelter tohis skirmishers, while his artillery were so placed on rising groundin the rear of his position as to sweep the whole country over whichhis column would advance to the attack. At this moment the dukereturned from his conference with Blucher. He at once saw that theenemy had gathered a heavy column behind the wood of Bossu, anddirected the Prince of Orange to withdraw the guns that were too faradvanced, and to gather the Dutch and Belgian troops to oppose theadvance, at the same time he sent forward the Twenty-eighth to theirassistance. 

They arrived, however, too late; for the French swept the Belgiansbefore them and advanced steadily, while their artillery from the highground opened a furious cannonade upon Picton's division. One of theBrunswick regiments now joined the Belgians, but in spite of thisreinforcement the latter were driven from the wood of Bossu, whichthey had occupied when the British first came up. The British troopswere suffering heavily from the artillery fire to which their own gunscould make no effectual reply. 

"Pretty hot this, Conway, " Captain O'Connor said to Ralph. "It's notpleasant standing here being made a target of. "

"That it's not, " Ralph said heartily. "I call it horribly unpleasant. I shouldn't mind it so much if we were doing something. "

It was indeed trying for young soldiers under fire for the first time. The French had got the range accurately, and every moment gaps weremade in the line as the round shot plowed through them. The officerswalked backward and forward in front of their men with exhortations tostand steady. 

"It will be our turn presently, lads, " Captain O'Connor saidassuringly. "We will turn the tables on them by and by, never fear. "

There was not long to wait. Clouds of French skirmishers were seenadvancing through the hedgerows, and stealing behind the thickets andwoods that skirted the road, and a moment later the orders came forthe light companies of all the regiments of Picton's division toadvance. 

"Forward, lads!" Captain O'Connor said. "It's our turn now. Keep cooland don't waste your ammunition. "

With a cheer his company followed him. Every hedge, bank, and treethat could afford shelter was seized upon, and a sharp crackling fireat once replied to that of the French skirmishers. The light companieswere then armed with far better weapons than those in use by the restof the troops, and a soldier could have told at once by the sharpcrackling sound along the front of the British line that it was thelight companies that were engaged. But now a heavy column of troopswas seen advancing from the village held by the French; and this, asit approached the part of the line held by the Brunswickers, broke upinto several columns. The Germans were falling back, when the dukesent Picton's two brigades to meet the enemy halfway. TheNinety-second were left behind in reserve on the road, the lightcompanies were called in, Picton placed himself in front of the longline, and with a tremendous cheer this advanced to meet the heavyFrench columns. 

It was thus through the wars of the period that the English and Frenchalways fought: the French in massive column, the English in long line. Once again, as at Albuera and in many a stricken field, the lineproved the conqueror. Overlapping the columns opposed to it, pouringscathing volleys upon each flank, and then charging on the shaken masswith the bayonet, the British regiments drove the enemy back beyondthe hedgerows, and were with difficulty restrained from following themup the face of the opposite hill. 

On the right, however, the Brunswickers were suffering heavily fromthe cannonade of the French, and were only prevented from breaking bythe coolness of their chief. The Duke of Brunswick rode backward andforward in front of them, smoking his pipe and chatting cheerfullywith his officers, seemingly unconscious of the storm of fire: andeven the most nervous of his young troops felt ashamed to show signsof faltering when their commander and chief set them such an example. Four guns, which at his request Wellington had sent to him, came upand opened fire; but so completely were they overmatched that in fiveminutes two were disabled and the other two silenced. 

As soon as this was done two French columns of infantry, preceded by abattalion in line, advanced along the edge of the wood, while a heavymass of cavalry advanced along the Ghent road, and threatened theBrunswickers with destruction. The Brunswick, Dutch, and Belgianskirmishers fell back before those of the French. The Duke ofBrunswick placed himself before a regiment of lancers and charged theFrench infantry; but these stood steady, and received the lancers withso heavy a fire that they retreated in confusion on Quatre Bras. Theduke now ordered the infantry to fall back in good order, but by thistime they were too shaken to do so. The French artillery smote themwith terrible effect; the infantry swept them with bullets; thecavalry were preparing to charge. No wonder then that the young troopslost their self-possession, broke, and fled in utter confusion, somethrough Quatre Bras others through the English regiments on the leftof the village. 

At this moment the gallant Duke of Brunswick, while striving to rallyone of his regiments, received a mortar wound. He died a few minuteslater, as his father had died on the field of Jena. The Brunswickhussars were now ordered to advance and cover the retreat of theinfantry; but as they moved toward the enemy they lost heart, turned, and fled from the field, the French lancers charging hotly among them. So closely were the two bodies mixed together that the Forty-secondand Forty-fourth which were posted on the left of the road, could notdistinguish friend from foe. 

Before the former regiment had time to form square the French wereupon them, and for two or three minutes a desperate hand-to-handconflict took place between bayonet and lance. The Forty-fourth didnot attempt to form a square. Its colonel faced the rear rank about, and these poured so tremendous a volley into the French cavalry thatthey reeled back in confusion. Two companies of the Forty-second whichhad been cut off from the rest were almost annihilated; but the restof the square closed in around French cavalry who had pierced them anddestroyed them to a man. The Twenty-eighth also repulsed the enemy. 

"What do you think of it now, Conway?" Captain O'Connor asked as theFrench retreated. 

"I feel all right now, " Ralph said; "though I thought just now that itwas all over with me. A big Frenchman was just dealing a sweeping cutat me when a musket shot struck him. Still this is a thousand timesbetter than standing still and being pounded by their artillery. Iconfess I felt horribly uncomfortable while that was going on. "

"I dare say you did, lad. "

The Duke of Wellington had, upon the fall of their commander, in vainendeavored to rally the flying Brunswickers. As he was so engaged thecavalry column swept down upon him. He put spurs to his horse andgalloped to the spot where the Ninety-second were lying behind a ditchbordering the road. The French were close to his heels. He shouted tothe men of the Ninety-second in front of him to throw themselves down, and setting spurs to his horse leaped the ditch and the men behind it, and instantly the Highlanders poured so terrible a volley into theFrench cavalry that a hundred saddles were emptied. 

The cavalry recoiled for a moment in confusion, but then reformed andretired in good order. Some of the leading squadrons, however, hadgalloped on into the village, and cut down some stragglers there; butthe Highlanders closed round them, and, being pent up in a farmyardfrom which there was but one outlet, scarce a man who had enteredescaped. 

The French had now received heavy reinforcement--Kellermann's heavyhorse having come upon the field--and as neither the Dutch nor Belgiancavalry would face the French troopers they were free to employ theirwhole cavalry force against the British infantry. 

Again and again they charged down upon the Twenty-eighth, Forty-second, Forty-fourth, and First Royals. The Twenty-eighth andthe Royals did not indeed wait to be attacked, but led by Picton andKempt in person resolutely advanced to charge the French cavalry. Thisfeat, seldom exampled in military history, was rendered necessary inorder to cover the flank of the Forty-second and Forty-fourth, now, bythe flight of the Brunswickers, Dutch, and Belgians, open to theattacks of the French cavalry. The fields here were covered with agrowth of tall rye, that concealed the approach of the French cavalrytill they were within a few yards of the infantry, and it was only bythe tramp of the horses as they rushed through the corn that theBritish square knew when their foes would be upon them. 

Picton in the center of the Twenty-eighth encouraged them by hispresence, and they stood firm, although the cavalry again and againcharged down until their horse's chests touched the close line ofbayonets. They were every time repulsed with heavy loss. TheThirty-second, Seventy-ninth, and Ninety-fifth were also exposed tosimilar attacks; but everywhere the British soldiers stood firmlyshoulder to shoulder, and nowhere did the French succeed in breakingtheir ranks. 

At five o'clock fresh guns and cavalry reinforced Ney, and hisinfantry again advanced in great force through the wood of Bossu. TheBritish squares were decimated by the fire of the artillery, andseveral batteries were advanced to comparatively short range, andopened with destructive effect. 

Stoutly as the eight thousand British had fought--deserted though theywere by their allies--against Ney's overpowering numbers, they couldnot much longer have stood their ground, when at the critical momentGeneral Alten's division came up by the Nivelles road to their aid. Halket's British brigade advanced between the wood of Bossu and theCharleroi road; while the Hanoverian brigade took up ground to theleft, and gave their support to the hardly-pressed British. 

Ney now pushed forward every man at his disposal. His masses ofcavalry charged down, and falling upon the Sixty-ninth, one of theregiments just arrived, cut it up terribly, and carried off one of itscolors. The Thirty-second, however, belonging to the same brigade, repulsed a similar attempt with terrible slaughter. The Frenchinfantry, supported by a column of cuirassiers, advanced against theHanoverians, and driving them back approached the spot where theNinety-second were lying. Major-General Barnes rode up to theHighlanders taking off his hat, and shouted: "Now, Ninety-second, follow me!"

The Highlanders sprang from the ditch in which they were lying, thebagpipes struck up the slogan of the regiment, and with leveledbayonets they threw themselves upon the French column. In vain itsleading companies attempted to make a stand. The Highlanders drovethem back in confusion, and they broke and fled to the shelter of thehedgerows, where they tried to resist the advance, but the Highlandersburst through without a pause. Their colonel, John Cameron, fell dead;but his men, more furious than before, flung themselves on the French, and drove them back in confusion into the wood. 

Ney still thought of renewing the attack; but D'Erlon's corps had notyet arrived, while at this moment two light battalions ofBrunswickers, with two batteries of artillery, came up, and almostimmediately afterward General Cooke's division, comprising twobrigades of the guards, reached the spot. The latter at once advancedagainst the French skirmishers, just as they were issuing afresh fromthe wood of Bossu. The guards had undergone a tremendous march; butall thought of fatigue was lost in their excitement, and they sweptthe French before them and pressed forward. As they did so the wholeBritish line advanced, Halket's brigade on the one flank the guards onthe other. 

In vain the French cavalry charged again and again. In vain the Frenchinfantry strove to stem the tide. One after another the positions theyhad so hardly won were wrested from them. Picton's division retook thevillage; Piermont was carried by the Ninety-fifth and the Germanlegion; while the guards drove the enemy entirely out of the wood ofBossu. Night was now falling, and Ney fell back under cover ofdarkness to his original position in Frasnes; while the Britishlighted their fires, and bivouacked on the ground they had so bravelyheld. 

As soon as the order came for the troops to bivouac where they werestanding, arms were piled and the men set to work. Parties choppeddown hedges and broke up fences, and fires were soon blazing. Owing tothe late hour at which the fight terminated, and the confusion amongthe baggage wagons that were now beginning to arrive from the rear, noregular distribution of rations could be made. Most of the men, however, had filled their haversacks before leaving their quarters onthe previous evening, and a party sent down the road obtained asufficient supply of bread for the rest from a commissariat wagon. While the fires were being lighted the light company were ordered toaid in the work of collecting the wounded. The other regiments hadalso sent out parties, and for hours the work went on. Owing to thefrequent movements of the troops, and the darkness of the night, itwas difficult to discover the wounded, and there were no materials athand from which torches could be made. 

No distinction was made between friend and foe. The bodies found to becold and stiff were left where they lay; the rest were lifted andcarried to one or other of the spots where the surgeons of the forcewere hard at work giving a first dressing to the wounds, or, whereabsolutely necessary, performing amputations. After an hour's work thelight company was relieved by the grenadiers, and these in turn by theother companies, so that all might have a chance of obtaining as muchsleep as possible. 

The troops were indeed terribly fatigued, for they had had a thirtymiles' march, and nearly six hours continuous fighting; but they werein high spirits at their success, although suffering severely fromwant of water. They had started in the morning with full canteens, butthe dusty march had produced such thirst that most of these wereemptied long before they reached the field of battle; and no water wasto be found near the spot where the Twenty-eighth were bivouacked, andindeed with the exception of the regiments in the village, whoobtained water from the wells, the whole army lay down without adrink. Water had, however, been fetched for the wounded, whose firstcry as their comrades reached them had always been for it; and evenwhen the search had ceased for the night, there were numbers stilllying in agony scattered over the field. Ralph had before startingfilled a canteen with brandy and water at the suggestion of CaptainO'Connor. 

"The less you drink, lad, while on the march the better; but thechances are you will find by night that every drop is worth its weightin gold. If you have the bad luck to be wounded yourself, the contentsof the canteen may save your life; and if you don't want it yourself, you may be sure that there will be scores of poor fellows to whom amouthful will be a blessing indeed. "

So Ralph had found it. He had drunk very sparingly on the way, scarcely permitting himself to do more than to wet his lips; but whenhe set about the work of collecting the wounded, he felt more thanamply rewarded for his little self-sacrifice by the grateful thanks ofthe poor fellows to whom he was able to give a mouthful of his hoardedstore. It was not until his return to the bivouac, after his hour'sturn of duty, that he learned the extent of the loss of the regiment. He knew by the smallness of the number who mustered for the search howmuch his own company had suffered, and in the brief intervals in thestruggle he had heard something of what was doing elsewhere. Lieutenant Desmond had fallen early in the fight, shot through theheart as the light companies went out to oppose the Frenchskirmishers. Captain O'Connor had received a lance wound through hisarm; but had made a sling of his sash, and had kept his place at thehead of his company. 

The officers were all gathered round a fire when Ralph returned to thebivouac. 

"I see you have your arm in a sling, O'Connor, " he said. "Nothingserious, I hope?"

"No, I think not; but it's confoundedly painful. It was a Frenchlancer did it. Fortunately one of the men bayoneted him at the veryinstant he struck me, and it was only the head of the lance that wentthrough my arm. Still, it made a hole big enough to be uncommonlypainful; the more so because it gave it a frightful wrench as the mandropped the lance. However, there is nothing to grumble at; and I mayconsider myself lucky indeed to have got off with a flesh wound whenso many good fellows have fallen. "

"Yes, considering the number engaged, the losses have been terriblyheavy, " the major said. "It looked very bad for a time. "

"That it did, " O'Connor agreed. "That's what comes of fighting withlittle mongrels by the side of you. It's always been the case when weget mixed up with other nationalities. Look at Fontenoy, look atTalavera. If I were a general I would simply fight my battles in myown way with my own men. If any allies I had liked to come up andfight on their own account, all the better; but I wouldn't rely uponthem in the very slightest. "

"The Belgians and Dutch fought very fairly at the beginning, O'Connor. "

"Yes, I will admit that. But what's the good of fighting at thebeginning if you are going to bolt in the middle of a battle? If wehad had two or three regiments of our own cavalry, it would have madeall the difference in the world; but when they went off, horse andfoot and left our division alone to face the whole force of the enemy, I hardly even hoped we should hold our ground till Alten came up. "

"Yes, he was just in the nick of time; but even with him we shouldhave had to fall back if Cooke had not arrived with the guards. By theway, has any one heard what has taken place on our left?"

"We have heard nothing; but I think there is no doubt the Prussiansmust have been thrashed. One could hear the roar of fire over thereoccasionally, and I am sure it got farther off at the end of the day;beside, if Blucher had beaten Napoleon, our friends over there wouldbe falling back, and you can see by their long lines of fire they havenot done so. I dare say we shall hear all about it to-morrow. Anyhow, I think we had better lie down and get as much sleep as we can, we mayhave another hard day's work before us. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

WATERLOO. 

The Prussians indeed had been beaten at Ligny. Their three corps, numbering eighty thousand men, with two hundred and twenty-four guns, had been attacked by Napoleon with sixty thousand men, with twohundred and four guns. The battle was contested with extraordinaryobstinacy on both sides. The villages of Ligny and St. Armand weretaken and retaken over and over again, and for hours the desperatestrife in and around them continued without cessation. Both partiescontinued to send down reinforcements to these points, but neithercould succeed in obtaining entire possession of them. 

The faults which Wellington had perceived in the Prussian positiontold against Blucher. The villages were too far in advance of theheights on which the army was posted, and his reinforcements weretherefore a long time in reaching the spot where they were required toact. They were, too, as they descended the hill, under the observationof Napoleon, who was able to anticipate their arrival by moving upsupports on his side, and who noted the time when Blucher's lastreserves behind Ligny had come into action. At this critical momentGeneral Lobau arrived from Charleroi with twelve thousand fresh menand thirty-eight guns, and at seven o'clock in the evening Napoleonlaunched this force with his division of guards, twenty thousandstrong, who had hitherto been kept in reserve, against the enemy. 

Ligny was captured and the victory won. The Prussians throughout theday had fought with great bravery. They had a long score to wipe outagainst the French, and were inspired as much by national hatred as bymilitary ardor; and they owed their defeat rather to the disadvantagesof the position they held than to the, superior fighting qualities ofthe French. Their cavalry had several times made desperate charges;sometimes against the French horse, at others upon columns ofinfantry. In one of these Blucher himself was with them; and as theywere in turn driven back by a charge of the French cuirassiers hishorse was shot, bringing him to the ground. His aid-de-camp leaped offand threw his cloak over him as the cuirassiers came thundering past, intent upon overtaking the Prussian cavalry. They paid no attention tothe solitary dismounted man, and a few minutes later again passed thespot, this time in retreat, a fresh party of Prussian cavalry havingmet them. Again they passed by the fallen general, little dreamingthat one of their most formidable and determined enemies lay there attheir mercy. As soon as the Prussians came up the dead horse wasmoved, and Blucher, who was insensible, carried to the rear, when hesoon recovered and resumed the command. 

But though beaten the Prussians were by no means routed. They had lostthe _key_ of their position; but night came on before the combatterminated, and under cover of the darkness they fell back quietly andin good order. General Thielmann's corps on the extreme Prussian lefthad taken but little part in the fighting; and as the center and rightof the Prussian army retreated he advanced, fell upon the French inthe darkness, and for some time forced them back, thus giving time tothe rest of the army to reform its ranks and recover its discipline. After having rendered great service by thus occupying the enemyThielmann took up a position on the heights, and remained facing theFrench, while the other _corps d'armé_ took post in his rear. 

The French were too weary to follow up the advantage they had gained;the night passed without any attack being made, and at daybreak thePrussians started on their march to Wavre, the cavalry remainingbehind to cover the movement, check pursuit, and conceal if possiblefrom the French the line by which the army was falling back. Had thepursuit been taken up at daybreak by the French, they would soon havedriven in the cavalry and ascertained the route taken by the infantry;but it was not until many hours had elapsed that the French got intomotion, and by that time the Prussian cavalry had disappeared fromtheir front, and nothing remained to inform them of the line by whichthe enemy had retreated. 

There was a general feeling of disappointment among the gallantdefenders of Quatre Bras when on the following morning orders wereissued for them to abandon the ground they had so stoutly held. Theyhad been astir at daylight, firearms were cleaned, fresh ammunitionserved out from the reserve wagons, and the men fell into the ranks, expecting that in a short time they would again be engaged; but nomovement could be seen on the part of the enemy, and arms were againpiled. The commissariat wagons had come up in the night, and rationswere served out to the troops and breakfast prepared. As soon as thiswas over strong parties were again sent over the battlefield tocollect any wounded who had escaped the search of the night before. Assoon as these were collected the whole of the wounded were placed inambulance wagons and country carts, and despatched to Brussels. 

Presently a general movement of the great baggage trains was observedby the troops to be taking place, and the long column moved along theroad to the north. The duke had sent off a staff-officer at daybreakto ascertain the state of things at Ligny; he returned with the reportthat the Prussians had left the field. He then sent out a small partyof cavalry under Lieutenant-Colonel Sir Alexander Gordon. This officerpushed forward until he encountered General Zieten, who was still atSombreuf, but a mile distant from the battlefield. The generalinformed him of the whole events of the preceding day, and gave himthe important intelligence that Blucher had retreated to Wavre, andwould join hands with Wellington at Mount St. Jean, which the Englishgeneral had previously fixed upon as the scene of the battle for thedefense of Brussels. 

The news relieved Wellington of all anxiety. It had been beforearranged that Blucher if defeated, should if possible fall back toWavre; but it was by no means certain that he would be able to dothis, and had he been compelled by the events of the conflict toretire upon his base at Namur he would have been unable to effect ajunction for some days with Wellington, and the latter would have beenobliged single-handed to bear the whole brunt of Napoleon's attack. The latter's plans had indeed been entirely based on the suppositionthat Blucher would retreat upon Namur; and in order to force him to doso he had abstained from all attack upon the Prussian left, andemployed his whole strength against the right and center, so as toswing him round, and force him to retire by way of Namur. 

As soon as Wellington learned that Blucher had carried out thearrangement agreed upon his mind was at ease. Orders were sent off atonce to the troops advancing from various directions that they shouldmove upon Mount St. Jean. All the baggage was sent back to Brussels, while provisions for the troops were to be left at Mount St. Jean, where also the whole of the ammunition wagons were to be concentrated. Horsemen were sent along the road to keep the baggage train moving, and they had orders that if the troops at Quatre Bras fell back uponthem they were at once to clear the road of all vehicles. 

Having issued all these orders, and seen that everything was in train, Wellington allowed the troops at Quatre Bras to rest themselves, andordered their dinners, to be cooked. No movement was yet to be seen onthe part of the French; there was, therefore, no occasion to hurry. Those, therefore, of the men who were not out on patrol stretchedthemselves on the ground and rested till noon. Dinner over theinfantry marched off in two columns, the cavalry remaining until fouro'clock in the afternoon, when upon the advance of Ney in front andNapoleon on the left they fell back, and after some sharp skirmisheswith the enemy's light cavalry joined the infantry before nightfall intheir position near Mount St. Jean and Waterloo. Rain had fallen for atime during the afternoon of the battle, and now at four o'clock itagain began to come down heavily, soaking the troops to the skin. 

"This is miserable, Stapleton, " Ralph said to his friend, after theregiment had piled arms on the ground pointed out to them by theofficers of the quartermaster's department. 

"I am rather glad to hear you say it is miserable, Ralph. I wascertainly thinking so myself; but you always accuse me of being agrumbler, so I thought I would hold my tongue. "

Ralph laughed. "I don't think any one could deny that it is miserable, Stapleton; but some people keep up their spirits under miserablecircumstances and others don't. This is one of the occasions on whichit is really very hard to feel cheerful. There is not a dry thing inthe regiment; the rain is coming down steadily and looks as if itmeant to keep it up all night. The ground is fast turning into softmud, and we have got to sleep upon it, or rather in it; for by thetime we are ready to lie down it will be soft enough to let us sinkright in. I think the best plan will be to try to get hold of a smallbundle of rushes or straw, or something of that sort, to keep ourheads above it, otherwise we shall risk suffocation. "

"It is beastly, " Stapleton said emphatically. "Look at the men; what achange in them since we marched along this road yesterday. Then theywere full of fun and spirits, now they look washed out and miserable. Were the French to attack us now you wouldn't see our men fight as youdid yesterday. "

"But you must remember, Stapleton, the French are just as wet as weare. This is not a little private rain of our own, you know, got upfor our special annoyance; but it extends right over the country. "

"What nonsense you talk, Conway; as if I didn't know that. "

"Well, you spoke as if you didn't, Stapleton; but you will see thefellows will fight when they are called upon. Just at present they arenot only wet but they are disgusted. And I own it is disgusting afterfighting as hard as we did yesterday to find it's all been of no use, and that instead of marching against the enemy we are marching awayfrom them. Of course it can't be helped; and if we had waited anotherhalf-hour we should have had all the French army on us, andyesterday's work would have been mere child's play to it. Still I canquite enter into the soldier's feelings. Of course they do notunderstand the position, and regard it as simply a retreat instead ofa mere shifting of ground to take up better position and fight againto-morrow. 

"Still this is a nice position, isn't it? You see there's room enoughalong on the top of this slope for our whole army, and our guns willsweep the dip between us and the opposite rise, and if they attackthey will have to experience the same sensations we did yesterday, ofbeing pounded and pounded without the satisfaction of being able toreturn their fire. 

"They must cross that dip to get at us--at least if they attack, whichI suppose they will, as they will be the strongest party--and ourartillery will be able to play upon them splendidly from this road. Then, too, there are two or three farmhouses nearer our side thantheirs, and I suppose they will be held in force. 

"That looks rather a nice old place among the trees there on ourright. It has a wall and inclosure, and they will have hard work toturn us out of it. Yes, I call this a fine place for a battle; and weshall have the advantage here of being able to see all over the fieldand of knowing what is going on in other places, while yesterday onecouldn't see three yards before one. During the whole time one wasfighting, one felt that it might be of no use after all, for we mightbe getting smashed up in some other part of the field. "

"I never thought anything about it, " Stapleton said. "My only idea wasthat I must look as if I wasn't afraid, and must set a good example tothe men, and that it was all very unpleasant, and that probably myturn might come next, and that I would give a good deal for somethinglike a gallon of beer. As far as I can remember those were my leadingideas yesterday. "

"Well, Denis, what is it?" Ralph asked his servant, who approachedwith a long face. 

"Have you any dry tinder about you, your honor? I have been trying tostrike a light for the last half-hour till the tinder box is full ofwater, and I have knocked all the skin off my knuckles. "

"That's bad, Denis; but I don't think you will get a fire anyhow. Thewood must be all too soaked to burn. "

"I think it will go, sor, if I can once get it to light. I have pulledup some pea-sticks from an old woman's garden; and the ould witch cameout and began at me as if I was robbing her of her eldest daughter. Itwas lucky I had a shilling about me, or be jabbers she would havebrought down the provost's guard upon me, and then maybe I would havehad my back warmed the least taste in the world more than waspleasant. I hid the sticks under a wagon to keep them dry, and MikeDoolan is standing sentry over them. I promised him a stick or two forhis own kindling. The weather is too bad entirely, your honor, and theboys are well-nigh broken-hearted at turning their backs to theFrenchmen. "

"Ah, well, they will turn their faces to-morrow, Denis; and as for theweather, I guess you have got wet before now digging praties in theold country. "

"I have that, your honor, many and many a time; and it's little Icared for it. But then there was a place to go into, and dry clothesto put on, and a warm male to look forward to, with perhaps a drop ofthe crater afterward; and that makes all the difference in the world. What we are going to do to-night, sorra of me knows. "

"You will have to lie down in the mud, Denis. "

"Is it lie down, your honor? And when shall I get the mud off myuniform? and what will the duke say in the morning if he comes roundand sees me look like a hog that has been rowling in his sty?"

"You won't be worse than any one else, Denis; you see we shall all bein the same boat. Well, here's the tinder. I should recommend you tobreak up a cartridge, and sprinkle the powder in among the leaves thatyou light your fire with. "

"That's the difficulty, your honor; I have got some wood, but divil adry leaf can I find. "

"Look here, Denis. Open your knapsack under the wagon, and take out ashirt and tear it into strips. You will soon get a fire with that, andwe can easily replace the shirt afterward. "

"That's a grand idea, your honor. That will do it, sure enough. Faith, and when the boys see how I do it, there will be many a shirt burnedthis evening. "

"But how about wood, Denis?"

"There's plenty of wood, your honor. The commissaries have had two orthree score of woodcutters at work on the edge of the forest all day, and there's timber felled and split enough for all of us and to spare. The pioneers of all the regiments have gone off with their axes tohelp, and I will warrant there will be a blaze all along the linepresently. Now I will be off, your honor; for the cooks are ready toboil the kettles as soon as we can get a fire. "

Great masses of the enemy could now be seen arriving on the crest ofthe opposite rise. Presently, these broke up into regiments, and thenmoved along the crest, halted, and fell out. It was evident thatnothing would be done till next morning, for it was already beginningto get dusk. 

In a few minutes smoke rose in the rear of the regiment, and ere longhalf a dozen great fires were blazing. Men came from the regimentsnear to borrow brands. The news soon spread along the line of themeans by which the Twenty-eighth had kindled their fires and, as Denishad foretold, the number of shirts sacrificed for this purpose waslarge. Strong parties from each regiment were told off to go to thewoodpiles and bring up logs, and in spite of the continued downfall ofrain the men's spirits rose, and merry laughs were heard among thegroups gathered round the fires. The officers had one to themselves;and a kettle was soon boiling, and tin cups of strong grog handedround. Of food, however, there was little beyond what scraps remainedin the haversacks; for the commissariat wagons had retired from QuatreBras to leave room for those carrying the ammunition, and were now sofar in the rear that it was impossible to get at their contents, anddistribute them among the troops. For an hour or two they chattedround the fire, and discussed the probabilities of the struggle thatwould begin in the morning. 

Just as night fell there was a sharp artillery fight between twobatteries of Picton's division and the same number of the French. Thelatter commenced the fight by opening fire upon the infantry position, but were too far away to do much harm. Picton's guns got the range ofa column of infantry, and created great havoc among them. Darkness puta stop to the fight, but until late at night skirmishes took placebetween the outposts. A troop of the Seventh Hussars charged and droveback a body of light cavalry, who kept on disturbing the videttes; andthe Second Light Dragoons of the king's German legion, posted in frontof Hougoumont, charged and drove back a column of the enemy's cavalrythat approached too close. 

Gradually the fires burned low--the incessant downpour of rain sodrenching the logs that it was impossible to keep them alight--and thetroops lay down, with their knapsacks under their heads, turned thecapes of the greatcoats over their faces, and in spite of the deepsoft mud below them, and the pouring rain above, soon sank to sleep. All night long a deep sound filled the air, telling of the heavytrains of artillery and ammunition wagons arriving from the rear toboth armies. But nothing short of a heavy cannonade would have arousedthe weary soldiers from their deep sleep. 

At twelve o'clock Ralph was called up, as his company had to relievethat which furnished the posts in front of the position of theregiment. The orders were not to fire unless fired upon. A third ofthe men were thrown out as sentries; the others lay upon the ground, fifty yards in rear, ready to move forward to their support ifnecessary. Captain O'Connor left Ralph with the reserve, and himselfpaced up and down along the line of sentries, who were relieved everyhour until morning broke, when the company rejoined the regiment. 

The troops could now obtain a view of the ground upon which they wereto fight. Their line extended some two miles in length, along the browof a gradually sloping rise, the two extremities of which projectedsomewhat beyond the center. The ground was open, without woods orhedgerows. About halfway down the slope lay four farms. On the rightwas Hougoumont; a chateau with farm buildings attached to it and achapel. In front of this lay a thick wood with a close hedge, and thehouse and farm buildings were surrounded by a strong wall. In front ofthe center of the line lay the farm and inclosures of La Haye Sainte, abutting on the main Charleroi road, which, as it passed the farm, ranbetween two deep banks. In front of the left of the line were thehamlets of Papelotte and La Haye. At the top of the ridge the groundsloped backward, and the infantry were posted a little in rear of thecrest, which hid them from the sight of the enemy, and protected themfrom artillery fire. The whole of the slope, and the valley beyond itwas covered with waving corn or high grass, now ready for cutting. 

Upon the opposite side of the valley there was a similar rise, and onthis was the French position. Nearly in the center of this stood thefarm called La Belle Alliance, close to which Napoleon took up hisstand during the battle. Behind the British position the ground fellaway and then rose again gently to a crest, on which stood thevillages of Waterloo and Mount St. Jean. The great forest of Soigniesextended to this point, so that if obliged to fall back Wellington hadin his rear a position as defensible as that which he now occupied. 

The allies were arranged in the following order: On the extreme leftwere Vandeleur's and Vivian's light cavalry brigades. Then camePicton's division, the first line being composed of Hanoverians, Dutch, and Belgians, with Pack's British brigade, which had sufferedso severely in Quatre Bras, in its rear, and Kempt's brigade extendingto the Charleroi road. Alten's division was on the right of Picton's. Its second brigade, close to the road, consisted of the First andSecond light battalions of the German legion, and the Sixth and Eighthbattalions of the line. The Second German battalion was stationed inthe farm of La Haye Sainte. Next to these came a Hanoverian brigade, on the right of whom were Halket's British brigade. On the extremeright was Cooke's division, consisting of two brigades of the guards, having with them a Nassau regiment, and two companies of Hanoverianriflemen. 

Behind the infantry line lay the cavalry. In reserve were a brigade ofthe fourth division, the whole of the second division, and theBrunswickers, Dutch, and Belgians. The artillery were placed atintervals between the infantry, and on various commanding points alongthe ridge. 

The duke had expected to be attacked early, as it was of the utmostimportance to Napoleon to crush the British before the Prussians couldcome up; but the rain, which began to hold up as daylight appeared, had so soddened the deep soil that Napoleon thought that his cavalry, upon whom he greatly depended, would not be able to act, and hetherefore lost many precious hours before he set his troops in motion. 

From the British position the heavy masses of French troops could beseen moving on the opposite heights to get into the position assignedto them; for it was scarcely a mile from the crest of one slope tothat of the other. 

In point of numbers the armies were not ill-matched. Wellington hadforty-nine thousand six hundred and eight infantry twelve thousandfour hundred and two cavalry, five thousand six hundred and forty-fiveartillerymen, and one hundred and fifty-six guns. Napoleon, who haddetached Grouchy with his division in pursuit of the Prussians, hadwith him forty-eight thousand nine hundred and fifty infantry, fifteenthousand seven hundred and sixty-five cavalry, seven thousand twohundred and thirty-two artillerymen, and two hundred and forty-sixguns. He had, therefore, four thousand three hundred men and ninetyguns more than Wellington. But this does not represent the fulldisparity of strength, for Wellington had but eighteen thousand fivehundred British infantry including the German legion--who havingfought through the Peninsular were excellent troops--seven thousandeight hundred cavalry and three thousand five hundred artillery. Theremainder of his force consisted of troops of Hanover, Brunswick, Nassau, Holland, and Belgium, upon whom comparatively little reliancecould be placed. The British infantry consisted almost entirely ofyoung soldiers; while the whole of Napoleon's force were veterans. 

As early as six o'clock in the morning both armies had taken up thepositions in which they were intended to fight. The British infantrywere lying down, the cavalry dismounted in their rear, and socompletely were they hidden from the sight of the French that Napoleonbelieved they had retreated, and was greatly enraged at their having, as he supposed, escaped him. While he was expressing his annoyance, General Foy, who had served against the duke in the Peninsula, rode upand said:

"Your majesty is distressing yourself without just reason, Wellingtonnever shows his troops until they are needed. A patrol of horse willsoon find out whether he is before us or not, and if he be I warn yourmajesty that the British infantry are the very devil to fight. "

The emperor soon discovered that the British were still in front ofhim; for the English regiments were directed to clean their arms byfiring them off, and the heavy fusillade reached Napoleon's ears. Ateight o'clock Wellington, who was anxiously looking over in thedirection from which he expected the Prussians to appear, saw a bodyof mounted men in the distance, and soon afterward a Prussian orderlyrode in and informed him that they were on the march to hisassistance, and would soon be on the field. 

Grouchy had, in fact, altogether failed to intercept them. Napoleonhad made up his mind that after Ligny the Prussians would retreattoward Namur, and sent Grouchy in pursuit of them along that road. That officer had gone many miles before he discovered the route theyhad really taken, and only came up with the rear of their column atWavre on the morning of Waterloo. Blucher left one division to opposehim, and marched with the other three to join Wellington. 

It was not until nearly ten o'clock that the French attack began; thena column moved down from the heights of La Belle Alliance against thewood of Hougoumont, and as it approached the leading companies brokeup into skirmishing order. As these arrived within musketry range ascattering fire broke out from the hedges in front of the wood, andthe battle of Waterloo had begun. 

Soon from the high ground behind Hougoumont the batteries of artilleryopened fire on the French column. Its skirmishers advanced bravely, and constantly reinforced, drove back the Hanoverian and Nassauriflemen in front of the wood. Then Bull's battery of howitzers openedwith shell upon them; and so well were these served that the Frenchskirmishers fell back, hotly pressed by the First and Second brigadeof guards issuing from the chateau. The roar of cannon speedilyextended along both crests; the British aiming at the French columns, the French, who could see no foes with the exception of the lines ofskirmishers, firing upon the British batteries. The French thereforesuffered severely, while the allies, sheltered behind the crest, wereonly exposed to the fire of the shot which grazed the ground in front, and then came plunging in among them. 

Prince Jerome, who commanded on Napoleon's left, sent strong columnsof support to his skirmishers acting against the right of the wood ofHougoumont, while Foy's division moved to attack it in front. In spiteof a terrific fire of artillery poured upon them these brave troopsmoved on, supported by the concentrated fire of their powerfulartillery against the British position. The light companies of theguards, after an obstinate resistance, were forced back through thewood. The French pushed on through the trees until they reached thehedge, which seemed to them to be the only defense of the buildings. But thirty yards in the rear was the orchard wall, flanked on theright by the low brick terraces of the garden. The whole of these hadbeen carefully loopholed, and so terrible a storm of fire opened uponthe French that they recoiled and sought shelter among the trees andditches in the rear. 

Jerome, seeing that his skirmishers had won the wood, and knowingnothing of the formidable defenses that arrested their advance, pouredfresh masses of men down to their assistance. Although they sufferedterribly from the British artillery fire, they gathered in the wood insuch numbers that they gradually drove back the defenders into thebuildings and yard, and completely surrounded the chateau. Thedefenders had not even time properly to barricade the gate. This wasburst open and dense masses rushed in. The guards met them with thebayonet, and after fierce fighting drove thorn out and closed the gateagain, and with their musketry fire compelled them to fall back fromthe buildings. Some of the French, however, advanced higher up theslope, and opened fire upon one of the batteries with such effect thatit had to withdraw. Four fresh companies of the guards advancedagainst them, cleared them away, and reinforced the defenders of thechateau. 

A desperate fight raged round the buildings, and one of the enemy'sshells falling upon the chateau set it on fire. But the defense stillcontinued, until Lord Saltoun, repulsing a desperate attack, andreinforced by two companies which came down the hill to hisassistance, drove the enemy back and recaptured the orchard. Thisdesperate conflict had lasted for three hours. 

While it was going on Ney led twenty thousand men against the centerand left of the British position, advancing as usual in heavy column. Just as they were setting out at one o'clock Napoleon discovered thePrussians advancing. 

He sent off a despatch to Grouchy ordering him to move straight uponthe field of battle; but that general did not receive it until sevenin the evening, when the fight was nearly over. It was just two whenthe columns poured down the hill, their attack heralded by a terrificfire upon the British line opposed to them. The slaughter amongPicton's division was great; but although the Dutch and Hanoverianswere shaken by the iron hail, they stood their ground. When thecolumns reached the dip of the valley and began to ascend the slopestoward the British division they threw out clouds of skirmishers andbetween these and the light troops of the allies firing at once began, and increased in volume as the French neared the advanced posts of LaHaye Sainte, Papelotte, and La Haye. 

The division of Durette drove out the Nassau troops from Papelotte;but reinforcements arrived from the British line, and the French inturn were expelled. The other three French columns advanced steadily, with thirty light guns in the intervals between them. Donzelat'sbrigade attacked La Haye Sainte, and, in spite of a gallant resistanceby the Germans, made its way into the orchard and surrounded theinclosures. Another brigade, pushing along on the other side of theCharleroi road, were met by the fire of two companies of the riflebrigade who occupied a sandpit there, and by their heavy and accuratefire checked the French advance. The other two divisions movedstraight against that part of the crest held by Picton's division. 

The men of the Dutch-Belgian brigade, as soon as fire was opened uponthem, lost all order and took to their heels, amid the yells andexecrations of the brigades of Kempt and Pack behind them, and it waswith difficulty that the British soldiers were kept from firing intothe fugitives. The Dutch artillery behind them tried to arrest themob; but nothing could stop them--they fairly ran over guns, men, andhorses, rushed down the valley and through the village of Mount St. Jean, and were not seen again in the field during the rest of the day. Picton's division was now left alone to bear the brunt of the Frenohattack. The battle at Quatre Bras had terribly thinned its ranks, andthe two brigades together did not muster more than three thousand men. Picton formed the whole in line, and prepared to resist the charge ofthirteen thousand infantry, beside heavy masses of cavalry, who werepressing forward, having in spite of a stout resistance driven in theriflemen from the sandpit and the road above it. As the columns nearedthe British line the fire from the French batteries suddenly ceased, their own troops now serving as a screen to the British. The heads ofthe columns halted and began to deploy into line; Picton seized themoment, and shouted "A volley, and then charge!"

The French were but thirty yards away. A tremendous volley was pouredinto them, and then the British with a shout rushed forward, scrambledthrough a double hedgerow that separated them from the French, andfell upon them with the bayonet. The charge was irresistible. Taken inthe act of deploying, the very numbers of the French told againstthem, and they were borne down the slope in confusion. Picton, struckby a musket ball in the head, fell dead, and Kempt assumed thecommand, and his brigade followed up the attack and continued to drivethe enemy down the hill. In the meantime the French cavalry wereapproaching. The cuirassiers had passed La Haye Sainte, and almost cutto pieces a Hanoverian battalion which was advancing to reinforce thedefenders. 

At this moment Lord Edward Somerset led the house-hold brigade ofcavalry against the cuirassiers, and the _élite_ of the cavalry of thetwo nations met with a tremendous shock; but the weight and impetus ofthe heavy British horsemen, aided by the fact that they weredescending the hill, while their opponents had hardly recovered theirformation after cutting up the Hanoverians, proved irresistible, andthe cuirassiers were driven down the hill. A desperate hand-to-handconflict took place; and it was here that Shaw, who had been aprize-fighter before he enlisted in the Second Life Guards, killed noless than seven Frenchmen with his own hand, receiving, however, somany wounds, that on the return of the regiment from its charge hecould no longer sit his horse, and crawling behind a house died therefrom loss of blood. 

While the Second Life Guards and First Dragoon Guards pursued thecuirassiers down the slope, the Royals, Scots Greys, and Inniskillensrode to the assistance of Pack's brigade, which had been assailed byfour strong brigades of the enemy. Pack rode along at the front of hisline calling upon his men to stand steady The enemy crossed a hedgewithin forty yards of the Ninety-second, and delivered their fire. TheHighlanders waited till they approached within half the distance, andthen pouring in a volley, changed with leveled bayonets. The Frenchstood firm, and the Ninety-second, numbering less than two hundred andfifty men, burst in among them; a mere handful among their foes. Butjust at this moment Ponsonby's heavy cavalry came up, and passingthrough the intervals of the companies and battalions, fell upon theFrench infantry. In vain the enemy endeavored to keep their formation;their front was burst in, their center penetrated, and their reardispersed, and in five minutes the great column was a mass offugitives. Great numbers were killed, and two thousand prisonerstaken. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE ROUT. 

While Pack's brigade secured the prisoners taken by the cavalry andsent them to the rear, the cavalry themselves continued their charge. In vain Ponsonby ordered the trumpeters to sound the halt. Carriedaway by the excitement of their success--an excitement in which thehorses shared--the three regiments galloped on. The Royals on theright fell upon two French regiments advancing in column, broke them, and cut them up terribly. The Inniskillens also fell on two Frenchline regiments, shattered them with their charge, and took greatnumbers of prisoners, whole companies running up the hill andsurrendering to the infantry in order to escape from the terriblehorsemen. 

The cavalry were now terribly scattered; the three regiments ofPonsonby's brigade were far down in the valley, as were the SecondLife Guards and First Dragoon Guards. The First Life Guards and theBlues were still engaged with the cuirassiers opposed to them; forthese, although driven back, were fighting doggedly. The Greys, whoshould have been in reserve, galloped ahead and joined Ponsonby'ssquadrons, and the two brigades of heavy cavalry were far away fromall support. When they reached the bottom of the hill a tremendousfire was poured from a compact corps of infantry and some pieces ofcannon on the right into the Royals, Inniskillens, and Second LifeGuards, and a fresh column of cuirassiers advanced against them. Theywheeled about and fell back in great confusion and with heavy loss, their horses being completely blown with their long gallop across theheavy ground. 

These regiments had fared, however, better than the Greys, Royals, andInniskillens on the left, for they, having encountered no infantryfire, had charged up the hill until level with the French guns, when, turning sharp to the left, they swept along the line cutting up theartillerymen, until suddenly they were charged by a brigade oflancers, while a large body of infantry threatened their line ofretreat. Fortunately at this moment the light cavalry came up to theirassistance. 

Riding right through the infantry column the light cavalry fell uponthe French lancers and rolled them over with the fury of their charge, and then charged another regiment of lancers and checked theiradvance. Light and heavy horse were now mixed up together, and a freshbody of French cavalry coming up, drove them down the hill with greatloss--they being saved, indeed, from total destruction by the EleventhHussars, who, coming up last, had kept their formation. Covered bythese the remnants of the cavalry regained their own crest on thehill, and reformed under cover of the infantry. General Ponsonby waskilled, and his brother, the colonel of the Twelfth, severely woundedand left on the field. 

While this desperate fight had been raging on the center and left, fresh columns had advanced from Jerome's and Foy's divisions againstHougoumont, and had again, after obstinate fighting, captured theorchard and surrounded the chateau, but were once more repulsed by afresh battalion of guards who moved down the slope to the assistanceof their hardly-pressed comrades. Then for a while the fightingslackened, but the artillery duel raged as fiercely as ever. Thegunners on both sides had now got the exact range, and the carnage wasterrible. The French shells again set Hougoumont on fire, and all thebadly wounded who had been carried inside perished in the flames. 

At the end of an hour fresh columns of attack moved against thechateau, while at the same moment forty squadrons of cavalry advancedacross the valley toward the English position. 

The English batteries played upon them with round shot, and, as theycame near, with grape and canister; but the horsemen rode on, and at asteady trot arrived within forty yards of the English squares, whenwith a shout they galloped forward, and in a moment the whole of theadvanced batteries of the allies were in their possession; forWellington's orders had been that the artillerymen should stand totheir guns till the last moment, and then run for shelter behind thesquares. The French cavalry paused for a moment in astonishment at thesight that met their eyes. They had believed that the British werebroken and disorganized, but no sooner had they passed over the slopethan they saw the British and German squares bristling with bayonetsand standing calm and immovable. 

The artillery on both sides had ceased their fire, and a dead silencehad succeeded the terrible din that had raged but a moment before. Then with a shout the cavalry again charged, but in no case did theydash against the hedges of bayonets, from which a storm of fire wasnow pouring. Breaking into squadrons they rode through the intervalsbetween the squares and completely enveloped them; but Lord Uxbridgegathered the remains of the British cavalry together, charged them, and drove them back through the squares and down the hill. Receivingreinforcements the French again advanced, again enveloped the squares, and were again hurled back. 

While this was going on the battle was still raging round Hougoumontand La Haye Sainte, against which a portion of Reille's division hadadvanced; but the Germans resisted as obstinately as did the guards, and as the French cavalry retired for the second time the infantryfell back, and for a time the slope of the English position was againclear of the enemy. 

For a time the battle languished, and then Napoleon brought upthirty-seven fresh squadrons of cavalry, and these, with the remainsof those who had before charged, rode up the slope. But although theyswept on and passed the British squares, they could not succeed inshaking them. A body of horse, however, sweeping down toward the Dutchand Belgians at the end of the line, these at once marched off thefield without firing a musket, and the brigade of cavalry with themgalloped away at full speed. 

The position was a singular one; and had Napoleon ordered his infantryto advance in the rear of the cavalry, the issue of the day might havebeen changed. In appearance the French were masters of the position. Their masses of cavalry hid the British squares from sight. TheBritish cavalry were too weak to charge, and most of the guns were inthe possession of the French; but the latter's infantry were far away, and after sustaining the fire of the squares for a long time, thecavalry began to draw off. Lord Uxbridge now endeavored to persuadethe Cumberland Hanoverian Hussars, who had not so far been engaged, tocharge; but instead of obeying orders they turned and rode off, andnever drew bridle until they reached Brussels, where they reportedthat the British army had been destroyed. 

Adams' brigade were now brought up from the reserve, and drove backthe French infantry and cavalry who had come up to the top of thecrest beyond Hougoumont. On the other side Ney sent a column againstLa Haye Sainte. The Germans made a gallant stand; but they were cutoff from all assistance, outnumbered, and were altogether withoutammunition; and although they defended themselves with their bayonetsto the end, they were slain almost to a man, and La Haye Sainte wascaptured at last. But beyond this the French could not advance; andthough column after column moved forward to the attack on the crest, they were each and all beaten back. 

It was now nearly seven o'clock in the evening, and the Prussians wereengaged at St. Lambert, Napoleon having detached Lobau's corps toarrest their progress. Their march had been a terrible one. They hadto traverse country roads softened by the rain; the men were up totheir ankles in mud, guns and carriages stuck fast, and it was notuntil after tremendous efforts that the leading squadron of theircavalry passed through the wood of Wavre and came in view of thebattle that was raging. It was then past four o'clock, and anotherhour passed before any considerable number of infantry arrived. It wasat this time Napoleon sent Lobau against them. He was able for a timeto resist their advance; but as fresh troops came up from the rear thePrussians began to win their way forward, and Napoleon was obliged tosend two more divisions of the Young Guard to check them. 

He now saw that all was lost unless he could, before the whole of thePrussian army arrived, break down the resistance of the British. Hetherefore prepared for a final effort. Ney was to collect all hisinfantry, and, advancing past La Haye Sainte, to fall upon the centerof the British line. The guard, who had hitherto been held in reserve, was to pass Hougoumont and attack the left center. The cavalry were tofollow in support. 

A cannonade even more heavy and terrible than before, for the guns ofthe reserve had been brought up, opened upon the British, and thesquares were now melting away fast. But no reinforcements could besent to them, for the whole of the British troops were now in action, and their allies had for the most part long before left the field. 

Every gun was brought to the front, the remains of the cavalrygathered together as a reserve; and some of the Prussians nowapproaching the left, the cavalry there were brought to the center toaid in the defense of the threatened point. Just as these arrangementswere completed the enemy advanced in tremendous force from theinclosure of La Haye Sainte, and with their fire so completelymastered that of the remnants of the infantry, that their light gunswere brought up to within a hundred yards of the British line andopened with grape upon the squares. Two Hanoverian battalions werealmost annihilated, the brigade of the German legion almost ceased toexist. 

A Brunswick cavalry regiment that had hitherto fought gallantly lostheart and would have fled had not the British cavalry behind themprevented them from doing so. 

In the meantime the Imperial Guard in two heavy columns, led by Neyhimself, were advancing, the guards being followed by every availableman of the infantry and cavalry. One of these columns skirted theinclosure of the Hougoumont, the other moved against the center. Theypressed forward until they reached the top of the slope, and a hundredcannon were brought up and unlimbered, while the artillery on theopposite slope rained round shot and shell upon the British squaresand artillery. The English guns tried in vain to answer them: theywere wholly overmatched. Gun after gun was dismounted, horses and mendestroyed; but as soon as the leading column of the guards reached thepoint when their own guns had to cease fire, the English artilleryopened again, and terrible was the havoc they made in the densecolumns. Still the guard pressed on until they reached the top of thecrest; and then the British guards leaped to their feet and poured ina tremendous volley at close quarters, fell on the flank of thecolumn, broke it, and hurled it down the hill. 

The guards were recalled and prepared to oppose the second column, buttheir aid was not needed; the Fifty-second threw themselves upon itsflank, the Seventy-first and Ninety-fifth swept its head with theirvolleys, and as the column broke and retired the Duke of Wellingtongave the orders the men had been longing for since the fight began. The squares broke into lines, and the British, cheering wildly, descended the crest. The French retreat became a rout, cavalry andinfantry fell upon them, the artillery plied them with their fire, thePrussians poured down upon their flank. By eight o'clock the splendidarmy of Napoleon was a mass of disorganized fugitives. 

For ten hours the battle had raged. To the men in the squares itseemed a lifetime. "When shall we get at them? when shall we get atthem?" was their constant cry as the round shot swept their ranks, although from their position behind the crest they could see nothingof their enemies. Nothing is harder than to suffer in inactivity, andthe efforts of the officers were principally directed to appeasing theimpatience of their men, "Our turn will come presently, lads. " "Yes, but who will be alive when it does come?" a query which was very hardto answer, as hour by hour the ranks melted away. Although they kept acheerful countenance and spoke hopefully to the men, it seemed to theofficers themselves that the prospect was well-nigh hopeless. Picton'sbrigade mustered scarce half their strength when the battle began. They were to have fought in the second line this day; but thedefection of their allies in front of them had placed them in thefront, and upon them and upon the defenders of Hougoumont the brunt ofthe battle had fallen, and as the squares grew smaller and smaller itseemed even to the officers that the end must come before long. 

"This cannot last, " Captain O'Connor said to Ralph when the day wasbut half over. "They will never beat us, but by the time they get herethere will be nobody left to beat. I don't think we are more than twohundred strong now, and every minute the force is diminishing. I don'twonder the men are impatient. We bargained for fighting, but I neverreckoned on standing for hours to be shot at without even a chance toreply. "

It was just after this that the French cavalry burst upon the squares;but this cheered rather than depressed the spirits of the men. For atime they were free from the artillery fire, and now had a chance ofactive work. Thus as the fire flashed from the faces of the square themen laughed and joked, and it was with regret that they saw thecuirassiers fall back before the charge of Lord Uxbridge's cavalry, for they knew that the moment this screen was removed the Frenchartillery would open again. 

Ralph's chief sensation was that of wonder that he was alive; sooverwhelming was the din, so incessant the rain of shot, it seemed tohim a marvel how any one could remain alive within its range. 

Almost mechanically he repeated the orders, "Close up, close up!" asthe square dwindled and dwindled. He longed as impatiently as the menfor the advance, and would have gladly charged against impossible oddsrather than remain immovable under fire. When the order at length camehe did not hear it. Just after the storm of fire that heralded theadvance of the guards broke out, a round shot struck him high up onthe left arm. He was conscious only of a dull, numbing sensation, andafter that knew no more of what was taking place. 

It was pitch dark before he became conscious. Fires were burning atvarious points along the ridge; for when the victory was complete theBritish retired to the position they had held so long, and thePrussian cavalry took up the pursuit. Fires had been lighted withbroken gun carriages and shattered artillery wagons, and parties withtorches were collecting the wounded. Ralph found that his head wasbeing supported, and that a hand was pouring spirits and water downhis throat. The hand was a shaky one, and its owner was crying loudly. As he opened his eyes the man broke into a torrent of thankfulexclamations. 

"The Lord be praised, Mr. Conway. Sure, I thought you were dead andkilt entirely. "

"Is that you, Denis?"

"Sure and it's no one else, your honor. "

"Is the battle over?"

"It is that. The French are miles away, and the Proosians at theirheels. "

"What has happened to me, Denis?"

"Well, your honor's hurt a bit in the arm, but it will all come rightpresently. "

It was well for Ralph that he had been struck before the order camefor the advance, for as he fell the one surviving surgeon of theregiment had at once attended to him, had fixed a tourniquet on thestump of his arm, tied the arteries, and roughly bandaged it. Had henot been instantly seen to he would have bled to death in a fewminutes. 

Denis now called to one of the parties who were moving about withstretchers. Ralph was lifted on to it and carried to the village ofWaterloo where he was placed in an ambulance wagon which, as soon asit was full, started for Brussels. 

The fighting was now over, and Denis asked leave to accompany hismaster. The rout of the enemy had been so thorough and complete thatit was not thought probable any serious resistance could be offered tothe advance of the allied armies to Paris, and he therefore obtainedleave without difficulty to remain with his master. Ralph sufferedfrom exhaustion rather than pain on the journey to Brussels, andseveral times became almost unconscious. At four o'clock in themorning the ambulance stopped at a handsome house that its owner hadplaced at the disposal of the authorities for the use of woundedofficers. He was carried upstairs and placed in bed in a room on thesecond story. Denis at once proceeded to install himself there. Hebrought down a mattress from a room above, laid it in the corner, throwing his greatcoat over it, then as soon as he thought the shopswere open he hurried out and bought a kettle and saucepan, two cupsand tumblers, a small basin, and several other articles. 

"There, your honor, " he said as he returned. "Now we have gotiverything we need, and I can make soups and drinks for your honor, and boil myself a tater widout having to go hunting all over the housefor the things to do it with. "

A few minutes later two surgeons entered the room and examined Ralph'sarm. They agreed at once that it was necessary to amputate it threeinches higher up, Ralph winced when he heard the news. 

"It won't hurt you very much, " one of the surgeons said. "The nervesare all numbed with the shock they have had, but it is absolutelynecessary in order that a neat stump may be made of it. The bone isall projecting now; and even if the wound healed over, which I don'tthink it would, you would have trouble with it all your life. "

"Of course if it must be done, it must, " Ralph said. "There isn't muchleft of it now. "

"There is not enough to be of much use, " the surgeon agreed; "but evena shorter stump that you can fit appliances on to will be a great dealmore handy than one with which nothing can be done. "

The operation was performed at once, and although Ralph had to presshis lips hard together to prevent himself from crying out, he did findit less painful than he had expected. 

"There, you will do now, " the surgeon said. "Here, my man, take thatbasin and a tumbler and run downstairs to the kitchen. They will giveyou some broth there and some weak spirits and water. Bring them up atonce. "

Ralph took a spoonful or two of the broth, and a sip of the spirits, and then lay back and presently dozed off to sleep. Denis had followedthe surgeons out of the room. 

"What instructions is there, your honor?"

"Your master is just to be kept quiet. If he is thirsty give him somelemonade. You can obtain that or anything else you require below. "

"And about myself, sir. I wouldn't speak about it but I have hadnothing to eat since yesterday morning, and I don't like leaving Mr. Conway alone even to buy myself a mouthful. "

"You will not have regular rations, but all officers' servants andorderlies will obtain food below. Meals will be served out at eight inthe morning, one, and six. You take down your pannikin, and can eithereat your food there or bring it up here as you choose. Breakfast willnot be ready for two hours yet; but there are several others in thesame plight as yourself, and you will find plenty to eat below. "

Denis took his place by his master's bedside until he saw that he wassound asleep, then taking the pannikin from the top of the knapsack hestole noiselessly out, and in two or three minutes later he returnedwith the pannikin full of soup, a small loaf, and a ration of wine. 

"By jabers, " he said to himself as he sat down to eat them, "these aregood quarters entirely. I should wish for nothing better if it wasn'tfor the master lying there. Lashings to eat and drink, and a room fitfor a king. Nothing to do but to wait upon his honor. I suppose afterto-day I shall be able to stale out for a few minutes sometimes for adraw of me pipe. It would never do to be smoking here. The masterwouldn't mind it; but I expect them doctors would be for sending meback to my regiment if they were to come in and smell it. "

After he had finished his meal, Denis took his seat by Ralph'sbedside; but he was thoroughly exhausted. He had not slept a winksince the night before the battle, and after the fatigue of the dayhad been tramping all night by the side of the ambulance, which wasconstantly stopped by the numerous vehicles that had broken down orbeen overturned by the way. After waking up suddenly with a jerk onceor twice, he muttered to himself, "I will just take five minutes onthe bed, then I shall be all right again, " and threw himself down onhis mattress with his greatcoat for a pillow, and slept for severalhours. So heavy was his slumber that he was not even roused when thesurgeons came round at ten o'clock to see how Ralph was. He had justwoke. 

"How do you feel, Mr. Conway?"

"I feel quite comfortable, " Ralph said, "but shall be glad of a drink. Where is my man?"

"He is asleep there in the corner, " the surgeon said. "I will give youa drink of lemonade. The poor fellow is worn out, no doubt. "

"Oh, yes; please don't wake him, " Ralph said. "I am glad he is asleep;for he had all that terrible day yesterday, and was on his feet allnight. I shan't want anything but this lemonade; and I have no doubt Ishall go straight off to sleep again as soon as you have gone. "

It was not until just one o'clock that Denis woke. He at once got upand went to Ralph's side. The latter opened his eyes. 

"How do you feel now, your honor?"

"Oh, I am getting on very well, Denis. My arm hardly hurts me at allat present. I expect it will ache worse presently. "

"I have been having a few minutes' sleep your honor. And now, if youdon't want me for a minute, I will run down and see about breakfast. Ishould think it must be nearly ready. "

"See about dinner, you mean, Denis. Why, it's just one o'clock. "

"One o'clock! Your honor must be dreaming. "

"I don't think so, Denis. There is my watch on the table. "

"Why, your honor does not mean to say, " Denis said in greatastonishment, "that I have been sleeping for five hours? The watchmust have gone wrong. "

"The watch is right enough, Denis. I heard it strike twelve by thechurch clocks before I dozed off last time. Why, the surgeons came inat ten o'clock and gave me some lemonade. "

"And me to know nothing about it! Denis Mulligan, you ought to beashamed of yourself--slaping like a pig in a stye, with your masterlaying wounded there beside you, and no one to look after him. I justlaid down for five minutes' nap, your honor, seeing that you had goneoff into a beautiful sleep, and never dreamed of more than that. "

"It was the best thing you could do, Denis. You had been twenty-fourhours on your feet, and you would have been fit for nothing if youhadn't had a good rest. Now go downstairs and get your dinner, andwhen you come back again you can bring me up a basin of broth and apiece of bread. I begin to feel hungry; and that's a capital sign, Ibelieve. "

When Ralph had finished his broth he said to Denis, "I shan't wantanything now for some time, Denis. You can put a glass of lemonadewithin reach of my hand, and then I shall do very well for an hour ortwo. I am quite sure you must be dying for a pipe; so go out and takea turn. It will freshen you up; and you can bring me back what newsyou can gather as to the losses yesterday, and whether the armystarted in pursuit of the French. "

It was some time before Denis would consent to leave the room; but atlast, seeing that Ralph really wished it, he went out for an hour, andreturned full of the rumors he had picked up of the terrible losses ofthe British, and the utter rout of the French army. The next morningRalph had a great surprise; for just as he had finished his breakfastthere was a tap at the door, and a lady entered. Ralph could hardlybelieve his eyes as his mother ran forward to the bed. But thepressure of her arms and her kisses soon showed him that it was areality. 

"Why, mother darling!" he exclaimed, "how on earth did you get here?"

"I came across in a smack to Ostend, Ralph, and then came on by carriage. I got here last night, and learned at the quartermaster-general'soffice that you were wounded and were somewhere in Brussels, at leastthey believed you were here somewhere, but they could not say where. They let me have a copy of the list of the houses that had beenallotted for the use of wounded officers. It was too late to begin thesearch last night, but I have been three hours going round thismorning. I saw the surgeon downstairs and he told me--" and her lipsquivered and her eyes filled with tears. 

"That I had lost my left arm, mother. Well, that is nothing to fretabout when thousands have been killed. One can do very well without aleft arm; and I think, on the whole, that I have been wonderfullylucky. Denis!" But Denis was not in the room, having, as soon as hehad discovered who Ralph's visitor was, gone out to leave them alone. "And have you made this journey all by yourself, mother?"

"No, my dear. Mr. Tallboys was good enough to come over to take careof me by the way. "

"Mr. Tallboys, mother! How did he know that you were coming?"

"Well, I told him, Ralph. But that is a long story, and you shall hearit another day. The doctor said you had better not do much talkingnow. Mr. Tallboys will stay here a day or two and then go home. Iintend to take a room somewhere close by and install myself here asyour head nurse. "

"I shan't want much nursing, mother; but I shall be delighted to haveyou with me. I have a capital servant. The man I told you about in myletters. He is a most amusing fellow and very much attached to me. Doyou know, he got leave directly the battle was over, and was all nightwalking by the side of the ambulance wagon. He is a capital fellow. Bythe way, mother, I suppose the will has not turned up yet? You said inyour last letter you had great hopes of its being found. "

"It has been found, Ralph; and it is all just as we supposed. But howit was found, or anything about it, you mustn't ask at present. It isa long story, and I must insist now that you lie quiet and go tosleep. "

"Well, I will try, mother. Will you just look outside the door and seeif Denis is there? Denis, this is my mother, " he said as the soldiercame in. "She has come over to help nurse me; and as she will beprincipally with me in the daytime, you will be at liberty to be outwhenever you like. "

"Sure, and I am glad the lady has come, Mr. Conway; though I wouldhave done the best I could for you. Still, a man is but a poor craterin a sick-room. Can I get you anything ma'am?"

"Well, I have had nothing this morning, Denis; and if you could get mea cup of tea and some bread and butter, if it is not against therules, I should be very glad. "

"Sure, I will do that, ma'am, with the greatest pleasure in life, "Denis said; and presently returned bringing up a tray with tea, breadand butter, and a plate of cold meat. 

"Is there anything else, ma'am?"

"Well, Denis, I should be very much obliged if you will take a notefrom me to a gentleman named Tallboys, whom you will find at the Hotelde L'Europe. Give it to him yourself if you can. He will be glad tohear from you about my son, how he is going on and so on. "

For the next few days Ralph's arm was exceedingly painful, attended bya certain amount of fever. At the end of that time he began toimprove, and his wound made steady progress toward recovery. Afterstaying for four days at Brussels, Mr. Tallboys had returned home. Mrs. Conway and Denis divided the nursing between them, sitting up onalternate nights. 

A fortnight after Mrs. Conway's arrival Ralph said, "Now, mother, Ishall be up to-morrow and can therefore be considered as fairlyconvalescent, so there can be no reason now why you should not tellthe story about the finding of the will. You told me in one of yourletters before Christmas that Mr. Tallboys had failed altogether. Sohow did it come to be found?"

Mrs. Conway thereupon told the story. When she came to the point whereshe had gone as a servant to the Hall, Ralph interrupted her with aloud protest. "I don't like that, mother; I don't like the idea ofyour having gone as a servant, whatever the stake was. If I had beenat home and had known it, I certainly would not have let you go, notif there had been ten fortunes to be gained by it. The idea of yourhaving to go and live as a servant, and work for people like that ishorrid!"

"There was nothing very unpleasant about it, Ralph. I had plenty to doand to think about, and the time passed a great deal more rapidly thanit would have done if I had been staying at home all by myself. Itwould have been very lonely and dull then; and I can assure you that Iconsidered it no hardship at all being at the Hall. But you must notinterrupt me in my story. If you do I shall tell you nothing moreabout it until you get home to England. "

This threat effectually sealed Ralph's lips, and beyond occasionalexclamations he said nothing until the story was ended. 

"Well, it's all very wonderful, mother, " he said; "and I should neverhave thought for a moment that you were so brave, and could have putthings together like that, and could have carried out such a scheme. But I am awfully glad you have succeeded; because you had set yourmind on it, and the money will I hope make you quite comfortable. Howmuch was it after all mother? You never told me that. "

"It is half of Mr. Penfold's estates, and of the money he hadinvested, which is a very large sum, Ralph; although I do not know howmuch. "

"Half the estate! Why, it will make me quite a rich man. I neverdreamed it was anything like that. I thought most likely it was enoughto continue the allowance that he said he should make me. Why, mother, it is tremendous! And what becomes of the other half?"

"That is left to Mabel Withers, Ralph. You two divide everything thathe left. "

"Well, that certainly is rather hard upon his sisters, " Ralph said;"and I don't blame them for being against it. Though, of course, itwas not right to keep the will hidden. "

"Mr. Penfold did not leave anything to them, because they are bothvery well provided for. Their father left them a handsome sum at hisdeath; and as they have been living at the Hall ever since, and canhave spent nothing, they must be very amply provided for. Theirbrother, therefore, naturally considered he was perfectly at libertyto leave his property as he chose. I do not think the Miss Penfoldshave the slightest reason to grumble, after living as they have donefor the last twenty years at their brother's expense. "

"Of course that makes a difference, " Ralph agreed; "it certainlydidn't seem nice that Mabel and I, who are no relation by blood to Mr. Penfold, should come into the property that his sisters expected wouldbe theirs. But, of course, now you explain it, it is different. "

"I do not think in any case, Ralph, Mr. Penfold would have left hisfortune to his sisters. He was a man very averse to exerting his ownwill, and I am sure that he submitted to, rather than liked, hissisters' residence at the Hall. I know that he considered, and justly, that they had once committed a cruel wrong upon him, and had in a wayspoiled his life. I question whether he really ever forgave them. "

"I see, mother, " Ralph said. "Well, now, about myself; I should thinkthere can be no occasion for me to continue in the army unless Ilike?"

"I hope you won't like, Ralph. In the first place I want to have youwith me; and in the second, you will be a large landowner, andproperty has its duties. "

"Well, there is no necessity to decide about that at present. Thedoctor said yesterday I should certainly get three months' sick leavebefore I rejoined. By all we hear the fighting is at an end, and thereis no fear whatever that Napoleon will have it in his power to causetrouble in the future. They will take care of that, whatever they dowith him. If there is going to be peace everywhere, I do not know thatI should care very much about staying in the army; but, as I said, weneed not decide at present. "

Ten days later, Ralph was so far recovered that he was able to returnhome with his mother. As soon as she informed him of her arrival atDover, Mr. Tallboys wrote to tell her that he had had an interview inLondon with the Miss Penfolds' lawyer, who informed him that he hadinstructions from his clients to examine the will, and if satisfied ofits genuineness, to offer no opposition whatever to its being proved. Mr. Tallboys had thereupon shown him the will, and had no difficultyin convincing him that it was the document he himself had drawn up, and Mr. Penfold had signed in his presence. 

The lawyer has placed all the deeds and documents relating to Mr. Penfold's property in my hands, and, as I was of course before wellaware, my late client died worth a very considerable property inaddition to his large estates in this country. For the last twentyyears his income has exceeded his expenditure by an average of threethousand a year, and as the surpluses have been judiciously invested, and as the prices of all funds and stocks now stand vastly higher thanthey did during the course of the long war, their total value nowamounts to something over a hundred and thirty thousand pounds. 

"The property in this country was valued, at the time Mr. Penfold drewup his will, at eighty thousand pounds; these estates he left to yourson, and the sum of eighty-thousand pounds, in various investments, toMiss Withers, and directed that the residue, whatever it might be athis death, should be equally divided between them. Your son's share, therefore, will amount to about twenty-five thousand pounds. I may saythat the outlying farms, which were settled by deed as a security forthe four hundred pounds annually paid to you, are not included in theabove valuation, but are ordered to revert to the main estate uponyour decease. 

"The formalities will all be completed in the course of a short time. I may say that from the totals to be divided must be deducted thelegacy duties, which, as your son and Miss Withers are strangers byblood to the testator, will be heavy. " Mr. Tallboys added that heheard the younger Miss Penfold was now recovering from her seriousillness, but it was not probable she would ever be again herself. Hehad received, he said, a letter that morning from their solicitor, saying that as soon as Miss Eleanor Penfold could be moved, which itwas hoped would be in the course of another week, the ladies wouldvacate possession of the Hall. 

A fortnight later Mrs. Conway and Ralph left Dover for London, leavingorders with an agent to sell the furniture of their house. All Ralph'sold friends on the shore had been made happy with handsome presents. After a short stay in London they went down, and Ralph took possessionof the Hall. He soon found there was abundance of occupation for histime on the estate, and that this would be increased when, as woulddoubtless be the case, he was placed on the Commission of Peace forthe county, as Herbert Penfold had been before him. 

As soon as Ralph had completely recovered his health and strength hetold his mother that she must spare him for a week, as he had promisedthat he would on the first opportunity go over to Dunkirk to see hisfriend Jacques. 

He crossed by the packet from Dover to Calais, and thence by coach toDunkirk. Here he inquired among the fishermen for Jacques, and foundthat he had returned before Napoleon broke out from Elba, and that hewas owner of a fishing smack which was now at sea. The next dayJacques returned, and his delight at meeting Ralph was unbounded. Hetook him home to his neat cottage where his pretty young wife wasalready installed. Ralph remained two days with him, and obtained apromise from him that he would once a year sail over to Weymouth andpay him a visit. 

"I am a rich man, Jacques, now. At present I see you want nothing, butshould any accident befall your fishing boat, or you have need formoney for any other cause, write to me, and the money for a new boator for any other purpose shall be yours at once. I could afford togive you a hundred boats without hurting myself, so do not hesitatefor a moment in letting me know if I can help you. It will be a realpleasure to me to do so. "

Jacques kept his promise, and never missed coming over once year topay Ralph a visit, and as his five sons one after another grew up tobe able to manage boats for themselves, they were each presented oneby Ralph. Jacques himself prospered as a fisherman, and never requiredthe assistance Ralph would have been glad to give him. 

Neither Ralph nor Mabel Withers was informed of the expression of Mr. Penfold's hopes in his will that they would some day be married, thetwo mothers agreeing cordially that nothing was so likely to defeatthe carrying out of Mr. Penfold's wishes as for the young people tohave any suspicions of them. They were still but boy and girl, andwere now perfectly happy in their unrestrained intercourse, for not aday passed that the two families did not see something of each other;but had they had a suspicion of the truth it would have rendered themshy and awkward with each other, and have thrown them much more widelyapart. 

"We both hope that it will come about, Mrs. Conway, " Mrs. Withers saidone day; "and I certainly think there is every prospect of it. Let usleave well alone, and allow it to come about naturally and withoutinterference. "

As soon as Ralph left the army he purchased Denis Mulligan'sdischarge, and the Irishman was installed as butler and Ralph'sspecial servant at the Hall, and remained in his service to the end ofhis life. In due time the natural change in the relations between thetwo young people came about, and their youthful friendship ripenedinto love. When Ralph was twenty-three, and Mabel had just come ofage, she changed her name and took up her place at the Hall, Mrs. Conway gladly handing over the reins of government to her. She herselflived with her children, for she was almost as fond of Mabel as ofRalph, to the end of a long life; and deep was the regret among herchildren and grandchildren when she was at last laid in BilstonChurch, close to the resting-place of Herbert Penfold.