ticed his paleness. Shortly after, on pretence of faintness, the guest retired to his room, and sent for his host. 'My friend,' said he, 'can you do me a favor? - go to the magistrate and recall the evidence I have given.'

"Impossible,' said the host. 'What crotchet is

this?'

"The guest shuddered. 'Peste!' said he: 'I do not wish in my old age to be hard on others. Who knows how the robber may have been tempted, and who knows what relations he may have-honest men, whom his crime would degrade for ever! Good heavens! if detected, it is the galleys, the galleys!'

"And what then?-the robber knew what he braved.' 'But did his father know it?' cried the guest.

"A light broke upon my unhappy comrade in arms: he caught his friend by the hand-'You turned pale at my son's sight-where did you ever see him before? Speak!'

"Last night, on the road to Paris. The mask slipped aside. Call back my evidence!'

"You are mistaken,' said my friend, calmly. 'I saw my son in his bed, and blessed him, before I went to my own.'

"I will believe you,' said the guest; and never shall my hasty suspicion pass my lips - but call back the evidence.'

"The guest returned to Paris before dusk. The father Conversed with his son on the subject of his studies; he followed him to his room, waited till he was in bed, and

was then about to retire, when the youth said, 'Father, you have forgotten your blessing.'

"The father went back, laid his hand on the boy's head, and prayed. He was credulous-fathers are so! He was persuaded that his friend had been deceived. He retired to rest, and fell asleep. He woke suddenly in the middle of the night, and felt (I here quote his words) 'I felt,' said he, 'as if a voice had awakened me-a voice that said "Rise and search." I rose at once, struck a light, and went to my son's room. The door was locked. I knocked once, twice, thrice — no answer. I dared not call aloud, lest I should rouse the servants. I went down the stairs-I opened the back-door-I passed to the stables. My own horse was there, not my son's. My horse neighed; it was old, like myself - my old charger at Mount St. Jean. I stole back, I crept into the shadow of the wall by my son's door, and extinguished my light. I felt as if I were a thief myself.'"

"Brother," interrupted my mother under her breath, speak in your own words, not in this wretched father's. I know not why, but it would shock me less."

The Captain nodded.

"Before daybreak, my friend heard the back-door open gently; a foot ascended the stair-a key grated in the door of a room close at hand-the father glided through the dark into that chamber behind his unseen son.

"He heard the clink of the tinder-box; a light was struck; it spread over the room, but he had time to place. himself behind the window-curtain which was close at

hand. The figure before him stood a moment or so motionless, and seemed to listen, for it turned to the right, to the left, its visage covered with the black, hideous mask which is worn in carnivals. Slowly the mask was removed; could that be his son's face? the son of a brave man?—it was pale and ghastly with scoundrel fears; the base drops stood on the brow; the eye was haggard and bloodshot. He looked as a coward looks when death stands before him.

"The youth walked, or rather skulked, to the secretaire, unlocked it, opened a secret drawer; placed within it the contents of his pockets and his frightful mask: the father approached softly, looked over his shoulder, and saw in the drawer the pocket-book embroidered with his friend's name. Meanwhile, the son took out his pistols, uncocked them cautiously, and was about also to secrete them, when his father arrested his arm. 'Robber, the

use of these is yet to come!'

"The son's knees knocked together, an exclamation for mercy burst from his lips; but when, recovering the mere shock of his dastard nerves, he perceived it was not the gripe of some hireling of the law, but a father's hand that had clutched his arm, the vile audacity which knows fear only from a bodily cause, none from the awe of shame, returned to him.

"Tush, sir,' he said, waste not time in reproaches, for, I fear, the gens-d'armes are on my track. It is well that you are here; you can swear that I have spent the night at home. Unhand me, old man-I have these wit

nesses still to secrete,' and he pointed to the garments wet and bedabbled with the mud of the roads. He had scarcely spoken when the walls shook; there was the heavy clatter of hoofs on the ringing pavement without.

They come !' cried the son. 'Off, dotard! save

your son from the galleys.'

"The galleys, the galleys!' said the father, staggering back; it is true' he said — 'the galleys.'

"There was a loud knocking at the gate. The gens-d'armes surrounded the house. 'Open, in the name of the law.' No answer came, no door was opened. Some of the gens-d'armes rode to the rear of the house, in which was placed the stable-yard. From the window of the son's room, the father saw the sudden blaze of torches, the shadowy forms of the men-hunters. He heard the clatter of arms as they swung themselves from their horses. He heard a voice cry, 'Yes, this is the robber's grey horse-see, it still reeks with sweat!' And behind and in front, at either door, again came the knocking, and again the shout, 'Open, in the name of the law.'

"Then lights began to gleam from the casements of the neighboring houses; then the space filled rapidly with curious wonderers startled from their sleep; the world was astir, and the crowd came round to know what crime or what shame had entered the old soldier's home.

"Suddenly, within, there was heard the report of a fire-arm and a minute or so afterwards the front-door was opened, and the soldier appeared.

'Enter,' he said to the gens-d'armes: 'what would

Jou?'

"We seek a robber who is within your walls.'

"I know it; mount and find him; 1 will lead the way.'

He ascended the stairs, he threw open his son's room; the officers of justice poured in, and on the floor lay the robber's corpse.

what is left you,' said the father. 'Take the dead man rescued from the galleys; take the living man on whose hands rests the dead man's blood!'

"I was present at my friend's trial. The facts had become known beforehand. He stood there with his grey hair, and his mutilated limbs, and the deep scar on his visage, and the cross of the Legion of Honor on his breast; and when he had told his tale, he ended with these words 'I have saved the son whom I reared for France from a doom that would have spared the life to brand it with disgrace. Is this a crime? I give you my life in exchange for my son's disgrace. Does my country need a victim? I have lived for my country's glory, and I can die contented to satisfy its laws; sure that, if you blame me, you will not despise; sure that the hands that give me to the headsman will scatter flowers over my grave. Thus I confess all. I, a soldier, look round amongst a nation of soldiers; and in the name of the star which glitters on my breast, I dare the Fathers of France to condemn me!"