It was destined for you alone. It was a happy day for you when you left Blois to come to La Charité."

"So the Capuchins said when they sent me," replied Le Lupin," do you think they knew I should meet with such great friends ?"

"I think not," rejoined De Nevailles," and you had better not tell any of them-they are your friends nowbut if they become aware of what you have done, they will feel envious of you. Keep it a secret till you meet the Duke of Guise, and then your glory will blaze out all at once."

If the readers could have seen the face of Ezzelin during this colloquy, their gravity, unlike his, would have been unable to maintain the least struggle with the ludicrous effect produced by his features in his attempt to repress the laughter which was choking him. Till this interview he had looked upon the captain as a proud, reserved young noble, unfit to associate with free troopers; but the style in which he hooked the peasant, and the steady hand with which he played him, proved to the German, that he was well fitted for his adventurous post.

Having received a promise from Le Lupin that he would keep secret the adventure till means could be found to introduce him to the presence of his great friend, De Nevailles next inquired respecting the passage of the Loire. He was overjoyed to learn that the peasant was acquainted with a ford above the town, where they might, by using proper precautions, pass in safety. The chief difficulty was to pass unseen through the open country, between the forest and the river, as every tenable station on the banks was garrisoned; and above all, La Charité boasted the presence of the Duke of Joyeuse, unless, indeed, he and his friends had been routed by the Protector's troops, which was very improbable. But in order to ascertain this point, the Baron despatched Le Lupin to gain intelligence respecting the result of the contest, and the disposition of the patrolling troops who lined the opposite banks. Having said every thing to Louis that was necessary, and pointed out the exact spot where he would find Ezzelin on his return after dark, the Baron dismissed him to La Charité, and sought his way back to the camp, leaving the trooper at the place of rendezvous, lest there should be any mistake which might prove fatal.

The result of his reconnoissance was communicated to Turenne alone, who, thankful for their deliverance from De Joyeuse, ordered all things to be made ready for the night-march. The Ritters threw away, as mariners do in a leaky vessel, every thing that was not conveniently portable as well as valuable; several light carriages, which formed the train of the regiment, and which held the ammunition and other necessaries, were dispossessed of the heavy bales of cloth and linen, with which the troopers had laden them; the sylvan glade was turned into a bazaar full enough of the utile et dulce, to have gladdened the hearts and stocked the boxes of an army of pedlers ;-maddening must have been the pleasure, and if an Israelite, fervent the blessings heaped on the prophets, by the itinerant dealer whom chance might lead that way. Whether the goodly raiment and other finery perished by the destroying influence of the elements, or whether fortune made some favourite child rich in a lucky hour, we know not; one might search the municipal records and traditions of La Charité, till one were weary, without alighting on a single trace of what befell the abandoned spoil. All that can be averred is, that the forests of Nivernois never gave back to the plains of Burgundy and Lorraine their own.

Night had fully set in ere the sentinel at the camp was disturbed from his silent post by the approach of footsteps. It was Ezzelin and the ever-grinning peasant. They were conducted to the Viscount, who was sitting beneath an oak; all around looked gloomy; the military carriages and the Ritters, who were already in their saddles, were scarce distinguishable in the deep shade of the trees; here and there might be perceived the outline of a horseman, but not more distinct than the masses of foliage which the benighted peasant often mistakes for living forms or evil sprites. It was a dark night, suited for a bold purpose.

"Well, Louis !" said De Nevailles, leading the peasant close up to the colonel, "here is our noble commander, who has been waiting for you. He is. the right hand of the Duke of Guise!"

The Viscount, who had been tutored by De Nevailles, arose, and embraced the peasant with kindness.

"You were sent here to be our salvation," said he"our children will thank you.'

The poor deluded Louis, whose mind on every subject connected with Valois and Guise was tinged with delusion, if not insanity, was happier in his new honours than he had been since childhood. To be embraced by a bosom friend of the Protector of the League, was next to being embraced by the Protector himself. Many a cunning thought on the revenge he was heaping upon Valois passed through his mind.

To the inquiries of the Viscount with regard to De Joyeuse, the peasant shook his head, and said, while staring around at the sylvan encampment-" The haughty Duke, with his gold armour, has pursued your friends across the plain. And he sent word back to the governor of the town, that he will not return till he has driven the Leaguers out of the province. He little thinks you are left behind; but you must take care, Monseigneur, for the governor has orders to withdraw the garrisons from the other towns, and assemble them in one army. Till this is done, the Duke says, he shall not cross the Loire to fight the Huguenots."

"Then we will cross this very night, Louis, with your assistance," said Turenne.

The peasant, to whom the scene was a novelty, began casting an inquisitive eye around; it fell upon the bales of merchandise scattered about; two or three of the Ritters were in the midst of it disputing.

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May I never see the Rhine again," exclaimed little Fritz, one of the group, in his native tongue, "if I leave this fine linen behind for the wolves to tear to pieces."

"You are a little lubberly fool, and a big thief,” said Ezzelin, dragging him off; your own stuff was lost in the wood, and you have no right to this. Come, no trifling! We shall have plenty again when we meet the Catholics."

So saying, Ezzelin, with the assistance of another trooper, carried off by force the unwilling Hessian, who would have risked the safety of the expedition, for the sake of pleasing his dear frau Margaretha, for whom he had destined the merchandise; but the attempt was useless, and he was pitched on his horse by his comrades, as a porter pitches his load.

"Bravo!" cried Louis, who mistook Fritz for a pri soner, and ran forward to assist, "when we reach the stream, we'll gurgle him between wind and water, by the holy St. Denis!"

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Holy devil!" shouted Schwartz, who had not seen the guide enter the camp, "who are you? An idolatrous Catholic by your mouth-piece! How is your master Guise?"

And before Ezzelin could explain that the peasant was their future guide, Schwartz, who took him for a neighbouring hind, who had somehow intruded into the camp by favour of the darkness of the night, caught hold of the supposed interloper: but Louis, who was excessively angered by the profanity of the Ritter, embraced him tightly round the waist, the best mode of dealing with such a lathy fellow, and pitched him fairly into the chaotic mass of merchandise, over which he rolled, alternately coming in contact with the hard and soft substances.

The affair had begun, and was finished so suddenly, that neither Turenne nor the Baron was able to prevent the conflict; but they took care to prevent any unpleasant consequences.

"How strangely that prisoner talked," said Louis, addressing De Nevailles; then looking attentively at the abandoned spoil, "Ah! I see," said he, "you have caught a rich stranger-merchant, and these are his goods, poor fellow ! How will you carry all these ?"

"We leave them here," replied De Nevailles: "he is a heretic, and we dare not touch them. But it is time for us to march, and you must lead the way."

"I never heard a Frenchman speak like that man who caught hold of my belt," exclaimed Le Lupin, "what province is he of?"

"He is a borderer," replied De Nevailles, smiling, "near the German states, where they speak a language of their own."

As the regiment was already in marching order, the Baron and his half-witted guide had to pass the entire line of troops to gain their post in the van: Louis stopped at almost every file to look at his brave friends, as he called them. Although it was dark, the appearance of the men struck him as somewhat strange; he remarked the disparity of their arms and clothing.

"The soldiers of the Duke De Joyeuse's own regiment are all alike," said Louis; but why has this man no helmet?" continued he, laying his hand on the neck of the trooper's steed.

"His thick skull needs none," was on the tip of the

Baron's tongue; but he had learned prudence during his stay at the Louvre, and was now much more circumspect; he was, however, saved a reply by the German, who uttered something not over courteous in his own dialect.

The peasant started :-" another borderer-but he must be still nearer to Germany, for I could not understand a word he said-what was it?"

"A prayer used by his countrymen in cases of difficulty," said De Nevailles, taking him by the arm, and leading him on at a quicker rate, for he was afraid that the natural sagacity of the peasant would penetrate the deception.

"Now, Louis!" cried the impatient Viscount, "lead us to the ford by the most secret route."

The peasant obeyed. De Nevailles and the two scouts followed next with the first troop; while the main corps was headed by Turenne. Louis never once appeared at a loss, but continued at a steady pace till they emerged into the open country; unfortunately the night which had favoured them, when favour was not so requisite, now showed signs of becoming much lighter than they cared for; the clouds which had hitherto hung like a heavy drapery beneath the heavens, and threatened rain with their blackness, now parted company, and displayed long seams of light.

"Louis," cried the apprehensive De Nevailles, "where are those lights?"

"A very proper question," exclaimed Schwartz ;- "I do not at all like this rough papal idolatrous guide."

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Very likely," said Ezzelin drily, "but the captain and I know him better than you do. He's a cracked bell, but made of good metal. Only think of that little, cowardly vagabond Fritz, who cried because he was obliged to leave the woman's gear in the forest. I would rather be mad Louis than him."

The guide, who had taken time to consider the question and collect his memory, replied to De Nevailles, that the nearest lights were at Munot, where there were no soldiers; and those in the same line, but farther south, at Pougues, where were to be found plenty of arquebusiers ; it was strongly garrisoned for the defence of the river, though it lay inland some distance-"but no harm can come to us," continued Louis, ours is a holy march. I

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