of the trip. I do not like the box-seat; it is exposed to the sun and the dust, and I am compelled to lean back upon an iron rail which eats into my spine; but I prefer that to making one of three inside. It is you who will occupy that enviable position to-morrow, monsieur."

This was not very pleasant. Saint-Luc began to wish that he had remained in Algiers. But while he was doubting what reply to make, a friendly slap on his shoulder made him turn round with a start, and he found himself face to face with Léon.

"So you have come at last!" cried that innocent young man. "We had quite given up all hope of you. Why did you not start sooner ?"

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"I could not get away," the poor Vicomte answered ruefully; and now I am not sure whether I shall do well to return with you. M. de Fontvieille has just been telling me that I shall be de trop in the carriage; and I cannot take my horse out to-morrow."

De trop ?-nonsense-how can you be de trop? M. de Fontvieille was joking," said Léon, rather confusedly; for he understood what the old gentleman had meant, and wondered how he could have been so foolish as to stir up unnecessary jealousies. He (Léon) would never have committed such a gaucherie. By way of repairing the mischief, and making things comfortable, he went on to say that, so far from making an unwelcome addition to the party, Saint-Luc's arrival would be an immense comfort to them all" especially to Jeanne, who must be getting tired of Mr. Barrington by this time, charming as he is. I have had business in one place and another which has forced me to perform nearly the whole journey in solitude, and so, of course, the duty of entertaining the stranger has fallen upon Jeanne, though in reality he is rather my friend than hers. It will be a pleasant change for her to have some one else to talk to dur. ing the long drive home.'

You think so?" said Saint-Luc with a faint smile. "But that, after all, is hardly the question. M. de Fontvieille only pointed out to me that three is an awkward number-and I quite agree with him."

"Pierre might ride my horse, and then we could all go in the carriage together,"

suggested the accommodating Léon. And then Barrington and Jeanne came in sight, strolling up the street in the twilight as leisurely as if three hungry men were not waiting dinner for them.

An

Barrington, distinguishing the little silent group at the inn-door, guessed at once that they had been talking about him. M. de Fontvieille fidgeted in his cane chair, and glanced sharply from him to Jeanne and from Jeanne back to him again. Léon looked embarrassed, and Saint-Luc, leaning against the doorpost with folded arms and eyes gloomily riveted upon the ground, remained immovable as a statue. And now, for the first time, Barrington realised with a transient jealous twinge what a singularly handsome man his rival was. oval face, an olive complexion, a heavy black moustache, a small head well set on to a pair of broad shoulders, a tall, lithe, muscular frame-what more could anyone desire in the shape of manly beauty? Saint-Luc wore a sun-helmet, tightly fitting cords, and high ridingboots, and, flung back from his shoulders, was the short caban or white, hooded cloak which is worn by officers in Algeria when on up-country duty, and is also in much favor among such civilians as have an eye for effect. It is of no earthly use, but it is unquestionably a picturesque and becoming garment. Barrington was neither tall nor specially good-looking. He wore, on the present occasion, a tweed suit, not in its first freshness, a wide-awake hat, and a puggaree soiled with a week's dust. "Why didn't I get one of those confounded sun-helmets?" he thought; and then inwardly laughed a little at his own vanity. Was Jeanne the woman to draw comparisons between sun-helmets and wide-awakes?

A few minutes later the whole party were seated at a round table in the lowroofed salle-à-manger, discussing what by courtesy was called their dinner by the light of an evil-smelling paraffin lamp. They had not noticed the offensiveness of the oil before, but they all remarked upon it now; they discovered, too, that the food was bad, and the wine execrable, and the table-cloth dirty. Conversation flagged somewhat, nor did anyone venture upon a foolish little joke, such as had been wont of late to

crop up about this hour. Jeanne was cold, stately, and reserved-the Jeanne of the Campagne de Mersac in her least expansive moments-a very different person from the girl who had driven with Barrington over the Col Ben-Aïcha and the lowlands of the Issers. And so one, at least, of the company was there and then summarily ejected from Fairyland, and falling roughly upon hard, practical earth, lost his temper a little in the process. That is the worst of aërial castle-building: one touch from a clumsy, unconscious, not malevolent hand, and away goes the whole flimsy fabric, leaving no trace behind it. The poor stupid paw that has swept it into space has only forestalled time a little, and ought not, perhaps, to be blamed, but it can hardly expect to escape some momentary hatred. Barrington, for whom all rough places had been carefully made smooth from his childhood up, resented a stroke of bad luck like a personal affront, and was always angry with anyone who hurt him, whether intentionally or not. He was very angry now with Saint-Luc, which was perhaps pardonable; he was angry also with Léon and M. de Fontvieille, which was hardly fair; and lastly, he was angry with Jeanne for not devoting her whole attention to him, which was most unjust. At his time of life he ought to have known better than to show his an

noyance; but he did not. He sulked openly, returned curt answers when he was addressed, contradicted Saint-Luc half-a-dozen times in an entirely uncalled for manner, and generally did his best to render an uncomfortable situation worse than it need have been.

Everybody was thankful when the dreary meal was at an end; and the old commandant of the place happening to drop in at that moment, and challenging M. de Fontvieille to a game of dominoes, Jeanne gladly seized the opportunity to propose to the others that they should go outside into the cool evening air. "It is impossible to breathe in this atmosphere," she said; "I am stifling."

So they all passed from the glare and heat of the room, through the doorway, where the landlord and a few of his friends were chatting over their cigarettes, and out into the solemn starlight; NEW SERIES.-VOL. XXX., No. I

Jeanne first, then Saint-Luc, then Léon, Barrington bringing up the rear.

The latter was still at loggerheads with the world. He wanted to walk with Jeanne, but he did not choose to make the first advance, and loitered behind, thinking that she would perhaps make some sign to him to join her. As a matter of course she did no such thing. She gave him his chance by standing for a minute before the inn to wrap the light burnous which she had brought out with her about her shoulders; but as he did not take advantage of it, she marched away up the street at a steady pace without casting a glance behind her, and Saint-Luc strode by her side. Barrington made no effort to follow them. lighted a cigar with much deliberation, stuck his hands into his pockets, and strolled across the road to a bench, upon which he seated himself. Léon, after a moment of hesitation, followed his example, remarking blandly as he did so : It is a charming night for a walk."

He

So your sister and M. de Saint-Luc appear to think. I can't understand how people can enjoy posting off at the rate of five miles an hour directly they have swallowed their dinner," remarked Barrington.

"Why, you have walked after dinner every night yourself till this evening," cried Léon innocently.

Barrington made no reply. He was gazing after two figures which were rap; idly diminishing into the gloom. They vanished for a second under the deep shadow of some acacia trees; then they emerged, and he caught a glimpse of the shimmer of Jeanne's burnous and SaintLuc's short white cloak fluttering in the night breeze; then the intervening angle of a house shut them out again, and they were gone.

Barrington sighed, and puffed silently at his cigar. After all, he was only playing at being jealous; he was not really afraid of the handsome Vicomte; he was only chagrined that his happy dream should have been so rudely dispelled; and, moreover, if he had analysed his feelings, he would have found that no small part of his annoyance was due to the first stirring in his mind of that disquieting question which must, sooner or later, arise out of all love-making-how

5

is it to end? He had dodged out of the way of this pertinacious little note of interrogation; he had tried to stifle it, and pretended to ignore it, but, spite of all he could do, there it was; and now what could be expected but that it should grow larger and larger and daily more obtrusive till it got a plain answer out of its victim? As yet, however, Barrington had not begun to disturb himself with reference to the future, and was conscious only of a vague uneasiness, together with a strong present desire to arise up and follow Jeanne and Saint-Luc into the darkness. But as such a proceeding would involve loss of dignity, he decided to resist his inclinations and remain where he was. "She will come back presently," he thought, "and then I can apologise for having been surly at dinner. I believe I did make myself rather unpleasant, now I come to think of it.'

Ten minutes passed slowly away, while Léon discoursed about the conquest of Kabylia and wasted some interesting anecdotes upon a preoccupied hearer; but Jeanne did not return. There was a stir and a scraping of chairs in the inn over the way; M. le Commandant, wrapped in his military cloak, stepped out into the street and strode away with ringing spurs; a light appeared in M. de Fontvieille's bed-room, and ere long was extinguished. That unworthy chaperon had gone to bed, leaving his charge to roam about with young men under the stars; the church-clock struck the half-hour, and Barrington began to fidget. Léon had got out of the regions of history now, and was discussing the respective merits of military and civil government in Algeria-" Cercles militaires"-"Bureaux Arabes"-" two hundred thousand Europeans against two millions and a half of indigènes""the necessity of keeping an active force always before the eyes of half-civilised races. Disjointed fragments of Léon's harangue fell meaningless upon Barrington's inattentive ears, and he threw in a Yes" or a "No," or an "Exactly so," as occasion appeared to require.

"Your sister is taking a very long walk," he said at length, anxiety getting the better of self-respect.

"Not longer than usual, is she? it is

so warm and fine to-night. Well, you see these vile Republicans-a set of beggarly ruffians whose only policy is to uproot every existing institution, in order that they may have a chance of picking up something when there is a scramble for fresh places-are agitating for a civil government. They complain of this and that, and point to abuses here and there; and abuses there are, sure enough, but what would you have? Are civilians likely to be honester men than soldiers? For my part, I believe that officials of all classes will invariably fill their pockets out of the public exchequer whenever they see an opportunity of doing so without being found in the act. No, no; what we want is security-security for our lives, security for our property."

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"Quite right, I'm sure. Security, as you say, is the essential thing, and without security, you know-why, where are you, you know? Your sister and M. de Saint-Luc have been away exactly three-quarters of an hour. Is it possible that they can have lost their way?" Quite impossible. The gates of the town are shut, and they cannot be very far away from us at this moment. What I maintain is that the Arab will never understand nor fear a ruler in a black coat. The Governor-General ought always to be a man who is ready to enforce obedience at the head of an army, if need be, and those who imagine that there will be no more fighting in Algeria are very much mistaken. This idea of a Civil Governor is only the first step in a policy which must end in disaster. The same men who clamor for a reformed system of rule, declare that we have many more regiments in the country than are necessary for our protection. If they carry out their programme, the Algerian forces will be gradually reduced till, some fine morning, we shall wake to find that the Arabs have risen and the whole colony is in a blaze. We poor farmers shall lose our property; hundreds of unfortunate Europeans will be massacred, and-oh, here is Jeanne."

"When is the massacre to take place, Léon ?" asked that young lady, appearing suddenly out of the gloom, followed by M. de Saint-Luc. More people die of fever than of massacre in this country, Mr. Barrington, and the very

44

best way to catch a fever is to sit out at night when the dews are falling. For Léon it does not matter, he is acclimatised; but he ought to have made you walk about."

"I meant to have walked, but I was waiting for you. I could not tell that you would be such a very long time away, " said Barrington, in a slightly aggrieved tone.

I am sorry that you should have been kept waiting," she answered, rather coldly;" and now it is too late to think of anything but bed. I am so tired that I think I will bid you all good-night at once."

She turned as she spoke, and, crossing the road, vanished into the inn, and Barrington, being out of temper with the world generally and M. de SaintLuc particularly, threw away the end of his cigar and announced that he was going to bed too.

Léon could not pretend to misunderstand his meaning. He was sincerely sorry to hear such bad news, for he liked Saint-Luc, and would gladly have welcomed him as a brother-in-law, and, moreover, the Duchess and M. de Fontvieille had taken a great deal of trouble lately to convince him of the desirability of his sister's speedy marriage. At the same time experience had taught him that Jeanne always knew her own mind, and that when she said no, she meant no; and this knowledge made it difficult for him to find any consolatory reply for the benefit of the luckless wooer. At length, however, he asked-" Are you quite sure of that?" which was perhaps the best thing he could have said under the circumstances

"It is not her fault if I am not," returned Saint-Luc, with a dreary laugh.

She told me she could no more marry me than M. de Fontvieille."

"That," said Léon, feeling very uncomfortable, and wishing most heartily that his friend could have chosen some other confidant-" that is, of course, only a way of speaking. Jeanne often expresses herself strongly; but she does not always mean quite all that she says, and I am sure that she did not intend to be unkind or rude to you.'

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no.

'She was neither the one nor the other; on the contrary, she was most kind. I think she has not quite understood me till now. She thought I was seeking a mariage de convenance, whereas-but it does not much signify. No one could have been more gentle and compassionate than she was, but that does not alter the fact that she has broken my heart. Do not laugh, Léon. A year ago I no more believed in broken hearts than you do; but when a man suffers such pain as I suffer, he must cease to be a sceptic, whether he will or I know what you would say-' On ne meurt pas de cette maladie-là '—but that is just what makes it a more infernal torture than any physical one. Tenez ! if it were not that I dread causing annoyance to others, I would put a pistol to my head this very night. Bon Dieu !. what is this wretched thing called life that a man should care to keep it in his body? What has my life been? The life of a dog-what do I say?—of a lapdog-a useless, dull, over-fed brute. Looking back upon past years, I cannot recall a single day or a single hour that I would choose to live over again : it is all idleness, and satiety, and disgust. I don't know how far I have been to blame; there must be some atom of good in me, or I should not so abhor myself; but I suppose it has not had force to struggle against the bad side of my nature. Before I met your sister I looked forward to dawdling through the rest of my life in a resigned, discontented sort of way. I knew I should never be of the smallest good to myself or anybody else in the world, and I did not much care; but then I saw her, and fell in love with her (God knows why or wherefore we wretched humans have no control over our fate), and that changed everything. I thought I might possibly become I won't say worthy of

her-but as worthy as a man with my I had dreams and propast could be. jects, all of which have been blown into space by one word, so that I need not trouble you with them. Ah, why did I ever see her? Why was I not left in my brutish indifference, if I was to spend all the rest of my life in hopelessness and solitude? If I believed in the Christian religion-which I do not, unfortunately; the world that I have lived in has honestly rejected that faith, finding it impossible to make it fit in with its own system of morality—I say, if I were a Christian, I would turn Trappist. It is a kind of suicide which the Church, knowing that some loophole out of the world must be left open for desperate men, permits, and is even kind enough to reward with a palm and a crown, instead of with hell-fire. But that door is closed to me. I have no faith in the palm or the crown, and should not know what to do with them when I had got them. There remains the pistol. I shall not use it just yet, for reasons that you may surmise; but before many months are over, I hope to rid society of one of its most useless members."

So poor Saint-Luc raved on, pacing to and fro in the dust and throwing his arms about as Frenchmen will do when they are in despair, or fancy themselves So. We English are a less demonstrative race; still one has heard a deal of nonsense talked by one's own compatriots under similar circumstances. The difficulty is to know what to say by way of comfort to a man who has just been refused. To tell him that he will get over it in time may be true, but savors of brutality, while encouragement to make another attempt may only lead him on to a second repulse. Practically, however, I believe that everybody does adopt the latter alternative. Léon, at all events, did so upon the present occasion.

spoken last week, or had put off doing so till next? Bah! I found myself alone with her a thing which does not happen to me every day, let me remind you-I was tired of suspense, and I said to myself that I would know the worst—Voilà!"'

That is just it. You made up your mind that you would know the worst, and you let her see that you expected the worst, and therefore you failed. All women are the same; throw yourself at their feet, and they will trample upon you; face them boldly, and they will yield," said Léon, whose youthful assumption of knowledge of a subject which the wisest of men have failed to fathom will perhaps be pardoned by those who remember that he was really sorry for his friend, and was doing what in him lay to console the afflicted one. "I grant you that Jeanne is not like other girls,' continued this successful student of character; "her education and position are different from those of other girls-else you could hardly have spoken to her as you have done this evening-but for all that, she is a woman, and women require humoring. The fact is that you have addressed yourself to her at the wrong moment.

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The wrong moment !" interrupted Saint-Luc-" why the wrong moment? Because that Englishman is here? Is there ever a moment when he is not with her? My good Léon, I am as much in love as it is possible to be, but I am not therefore blind. It is sufficiently evident to me that your sister will marry the Englishman, against whom I have nothing to say. If he be not more worthy of her than I, he must be a far worse man than I take him for. Whether he loves her as devotedly as I do, is another question."'