LARRY'S DISGUISE.

At last Jacques Chacot, looking round the room, gave notice that his

bear would at once commence his performance. In a short time a door

opened, and he appeared, leading out what looked like a large brown

bear, followed by one of his sons, carrying a couple of chairs. Jacques

Chacot, who had in his hand a long pole with a sharp point to it, took

his seat on one chair, and made signs to the bear to sit down on the

other, which it immediately did. The lad then handed a glass of wine to

the bear, which, making a bow to the audience, it drank off, putting the

glass, it seemed to me, almost down its throat, in a very curious

fashion.

Its keeper then ordered it to stand on its head, which it did with

seeming unwillingness, kicking its hind legs up in the air.

"Now show mesdames and messieurs how you can dance," cried Chacot.

"Strike up, Jean," he added to his son, who, getting down a riddle from

the wall, commenced scraping away, and producing a merry tune. Up got

the bear, and began shuffling and leaping about, in a fashion which

strangely resembled an Irish jig, at the same time singing in a voice

which sounded remarkably like that of a human being. The audience

applauded; but the bear at length, getting tired from its exertions,

took a chair and sat itself down in a corner. On this Chacot shouted to

it to go on; but the bear, being seized with sulkiness, refused, till

the fellow, giving it a poke with his pole, the bear sprang up and

recommenced its performance, Jean fiddling away as before.

"Now address the company, and give them an account of your adventures,"

said Chacot.

The bear on this got up, and, making another bow, uttered some words

which certainly no one present could have understood. Listening

attentively, I caught several words which sounded remarkably like Irish.

"Who are you, and where in the world do you come from?" I exclaimed in

my native tongue.

No sooner had I uttered the words, than the bear made a spring right off

the stage, and rushed towards me, exclaiming, "Arrah! I'm Larry

Harrigan, Mr Terence dear! and shure you've found me at last?"

At the first movement the bear made the audience rushed from all parts

of the room, trying to effect their escape through the door, while

Jacques Chacot endeavoured to seize it, and to drag it back on the

stage. Larry, however, was not to be hindered, and, grasping my hand,

he held it in his shaggy paws, his voice alone assuring me who he was.

"Hands off from him, Chacot!" I cried out. "He is an honest Irishman

whom I know well. If you injure him it will be at your peril. Stop,

friends, stop!" I shouted to the people as they were escaping. "The

bear will do you no harm; come and assist me." Jacques Chacot, however,

fearing that the chance of making further gains by his prisoner would be

lost, dragged him back by main force, while poor Larry, closely encased

as he was in a skin, and padded out with pillows, was unable to help

himself. At the same time, one of the sons, seizing his pike,

threatened to run me through if I interfered.

I in vain called to the people to help me; they seemed to think that I

was as mad as the bear, or that I was a mere bearish Englishman, who had

lived so long amongst animals of that description that I very naturally

took it for an old friend Larry continued to shout out to me for help,

until Jacques Chacot seized his jaws, and, closing them, prevented his

voice from coming out, while the young Frenchmen dragged him away.

"Keep up your spirits, Larry," I cried. "If there's justice in the

country, I'll obtain it for you." As I found it would be impossible at

that moment to set Larry free, I followed the people out of the show,

and endeavoured to explain to them that the bear was no bear at all, but

a human being, whom I had known all my life. This, however, I found

they were by no means inclined to believe. It was a very strange bear,

they acknowledged, but they had no reason to doubt that bears could

speak; and the words he had uttered were just such as might be expected

to proceed from a bear.

Young Pierre had bravely stuck by me all the time, and was more inclined

to believe me than any one else.

"I have heard say that Jacques Chacot is a great rascal, and if monsieur

will take my advice he will go to Monsieur Jules Pontet, the mayor, who

will compel him to allow the bear to be properly examined, and if it

proves to be a man have him set at liberty," he observed.

"You are a sensible little fellow," I answered; "and if you will show me

the way to the mayor's house, we will go to him at once. But don't let

any one know, or Chacot will take means to hide the bear, or carry him

off, or perhaps throw him into the sea and drown him, so that there may

be no evidence of his knavery."

"That's just what I was thinking, monsieur," said Pierre, as he led the

way. We hurried on, for I was very anxious about Larry's safety,

fearful that Chacot would play him some trick. In about twenty minutes

we reached the most respectable-looking house in the village.

"Monsieur the mayor lives here," said Pierre. "He is at home, I know,

for he never leaves so early in the day."

I knocked at the door, and, being admitted by a neat-looking woman in a

high cap, was ushered into a room, where I found Monsieur Jules Pontet,

the mayor, seated, with number of papers before him. I explained that,

having been induced to go and see a strange animal said to be a bear, I

had discovered a countryman, an old acquaintance of my own, who had been

compelled by some means or other to play the part, that he was being

cruelly treated, and desired to be set free.

The mayor listened politely.

"I have heard of this strange animal, and suspected that there was some

trick," he observed; "I will accompany you forthwith, and if you are

right in your conjectures, we will have the man set free."

"They are more than conjectures, they are certainties, monsieur," I

answered.

I then thanked him for his courtesy, when, getting his hat and cane, he

immediately set out with me, followed by Pierre, who was eager to see

the end.

We found a number of people collected round Chacot's cottage, which made

me hope that during my absence he had not been able, had he contemplated

violence, to carry his intention into effect.

"I wish to see this strange animal I have heard of," said the mayor in

an authoritative tone. "Go, some of you, and tell Chacot that I desire

him to bring the creature out on the stage, and let him perform his

tricks before me. Come, my friends, come in, you shall see the sight

without payment this time."

Whether Chacot was aware or not that I had brought the mayor, I could

not tell, as he might not have observed me among the crowd.

In a short time the door of the stage opened, and Chacot appeared,

dragging in the bear, who came very reluctantly, urged on by one of the

young fellows from behind with a pike.

Larry was going through his performances, when the mayor said, turning

to me--

"Speak to him, and tell him to come down quickly. I see the whole

trick; no bear would walk as that creature does."

No sooner did Larry hear my voice than he sprang off the stage, before

Chacot or his sons could stop him, and I rushed forward to meet him,

followed by Monsieur Pontet.

"Have any of you a knife?" asked the worthy magistrate. "Hand it to me

at once."

A knife was given him, and he began forthwith to cut away at the

bear-skin, Larry standing patiently while the operation was going

forward.

He soon got the head off, when Larry's honest countenance was displayed

beneath it.

Loud shouts of laughter burst from the people, mingled with no small

amount of abuse hurled at Chacot for the trick he had played them.

As the mayor proceeded, a quantity of hay tumbled out, which had served

to stuff out poor Larry to the required proportions.

"Faith, Mr Terence dear, you'd better not take it off altogether before

so many decent people; for, to say the truth, I've got nothing under it

but my bare skin," said Larry to me in a subdued voice.

Such, indeed, I perceived to be the case, as did the mayor.

"Bring the man's clothes at once, and let him have a room in which he

may dress himself properly," he exclaimed to Chacot, who had, by the

mayor's orders, remained on the stage, and had been watching our

proceedings.

Chacot, with no very good grace, obeyed, and I, fearing that some

violence might be offered, accompanied him into the room.

Chacot soon appeared with a seaman's dress, which Larry, jumping out of

his bear-skin, quickly put on.

As yet he had had no time to tell me how he had come into the power of

the French fisherman; and as I also did not wish to keep the mayor

waiting, as soon as Larry was ready, we hurried out to join him.

"I'll have my revenge on you one of these days," I heard Chacot exclaim,

but I thought it as well to take no notice of his remark.

"Come with me to my house," said Monsieur Jules Pontet. "I want to hear

how that fellow Jacques Chacot got hold of the English seaman. He must

have been a stupid fellow to have allowed himself to be so ill-treated."

"I have not yet had time to make inquiries, monsieur," I said, "but I

will, if you wish it, at once ask him how it happened."

"By all means," replied the mayor; so I desired Larry to tell me how he

had escaped from the hooker, and been turned into a bear.

"It is a long yarn, Mr Terence, but I'll cut it short to plase the

gintleman. You'll remember the night we were aboard the hooker. I was

asleep forward, just dreaming of Ballinahone, an' thinking I was leading

off a dance with Molly Maguire, when down came the whole castle tumbling

about our heads. Opening my eyes, I jumped out of my bunk, and sprang

up the fore hatchway, just in time to see that the masts had been

carried away, and that the hooker was going to the bottom. How it all

happened I couldn't for the life of me tell. I sang out at the top of

my voice for you, Mr Terence, and rushed aft to the cabin, where I

expected to find you asleep. But though I shouted loud enough to waken

the dead, you didn't answer, and not a soul was aboard but myself. For

a moment I caught sight of the stern of a vessel steering away from us,

which made me guess that we had been run down. The water was rushing

into the little craft, and I knew that she must go to the bottom. Her

masts and spars were still hanging to her side, an' so, thinks I to

meself, I'll have a struggle for life. I had seen an axe in the

companion hatch, and, getting hold of it, I cut away the rigging, and

had time to get hold of a cold ham and some bread and a bottle of water,

which I stowed in a basket. Thinks I, I'll make a raft, and so I hove

overboard some planks, with part of the main hatch and a grating, and,

getting on them, lashed them together in a rough fashion, keeping my eye

all the time on the hooker, to see that she didn't go down, and catch me

unawares. I was so mighty busy with this work, that if the vessel which

had run the hooker down had come back to look for us I shouldn't have

seen her. I had just got my raft together, when I saw that the hooker

was settling down, so I gave it a shove off from her side; and faith I

was only just in time, for it made a rush forward, and I thought was

going down with the vessel, but up it came again, and there I was,

floating all alone on the water.

"During the night a light breeze from the northward sprang up, and I

began to fear that I might be drifted out into the Atlantic. However, I

couldn't help myself, and was not going to cry die. I was mighty

thankful that the sea was smooth, and so I sat on my raft, trying to be

as happy as I could; but the thinking of you, Mr Terence, and not

knowing if you had escaped, often made me sad. I wished, too, that I

had had my fiddle, when I would have played myself a tune to keep up my

spirits. I can't say how many days I spent on the raft, sleeping when I

could not keep my eyes open, till all the provisions and the water I had

brought were gone. Then I got very bad, and thought I was going to die.

The weather, too, was changing, and the sea getting up. I was just

lying down on the raft, not long before the bright sun sank into the

ocean, and not expecting to see it rise again, when I heard a shout,

and, opening my eyes, I saw a small craft, which I guessed was a French

fishing-boat from her look, coming towards me. She having hove-to,

presently a boat was lowered from her deck, and I was taken on board,

more dead than alive. The Frenchmen gave me some food, and, taking me

down into the cabin, put me to bed.

"It came on to blow very hard that night. For some days we were

knocking about, not able to get back to port. From the heavy seas which

broke over the little vessel, and from the way I heard the Frenchmen

speaking, I thought that after all we should be lost, but I was too weak

to care much about the matter just then.

"However, at last the weather moderated, and after several days I found

that we were at anchor in smooth water. I was still very bad, so the

French skipper carried me ashore to his cottage. He fed me pretty well,

and I at last got strong enough to walk about. By this time I had

managed somehow to make him understand me, and I asked him to tell me

how I could cross over to Ireland, as I wanted to get home and learn if

you had escaped. He laughed at me, however, and said that I owed him a

hundred francs for taking care of me, and that I must pay him. I

answered that I would be glad enough to pay him, like an honest man, as

soon as I could get any prize-money, and that I would send it over to

him. To this, however, he would not agree, but said that if I would

help him in a trick he wanted to play off on the people, he would be

satisfied. He then explained that I must dress up like a bear, and that

he would show me off as a wonder. As I had no help for it, I consented.

He at once made me get into the bear-skin which you, Mr Terence, cut

me out of, and showed me how I was to behave myself. After I had had

some days' practice, he sent round to let it be known that he had picked

up a bear at sea, which could talk and play all sorts of tricks; and in

a short time people came to look at me. At first I thought it a good

joke, but at last he treated me so like a real bear, for he chained me

up at night and never let me get out of my skin, that I began to grow

heartily tired of the fun; and it's my belief, if you hadn't found me

out, he'd have been after making away with me, lest the people should

discover the trick he had played them."

I translated Larry's story to the mayor, who, being a humane man, was

very indignant, but said that he had no power to punish Chacot, as Larry

confessed that he had consented to be dressed up.

When I told this to Larry, he said that he should be very sorry to have

Chacot suffer, as, whatever his motive, he had certainly saved his life.

In a couple of days Larry was fit to set out. With the aid of Monsieur

Pontet, I purchased two horses. They were sorry steeds to look at, but

had more go in them than I expected from their appearance. Larry

carried my valise, and I had my sword and a brace of pistols, though

Monsieur Pontet assured me I should have no necessity for their use. I

had become intimate with him, and he kindly gave me a letter of

introduction to a friend of his at Vernon, a Monsieur Planterre, who, he

said, would dispose of my horses for me, and afford me any other

assistance I might require, in case La Touche should be absent from

home.

Bidding farewell to Monsieur Pontet, I started on my journey at an early

hour in the morning, fully expecting to enjoy the trip, as all was new

and strange to me. The people I met with were primitive in their

habits, and invariably treated me with civility. The inns I stopped at

were small, and not over comfortable, but as they afforded sufficient

accommodation for man and beast, I did not complain.

I must pass over the incidents of the journey. It was towards evening

when the towers of Vernon, situated on the banks of the Seine, appeared

in sight, and, passing across the boulevards which surrounded the town,

I entered the narrow, crooked streets, with timber-framed houses on

either side, and kept clean by running streams. On my way I inquired

for the house of Monsieur Planterre, which I found situated at the

entrance of an avenue which leads to the Chateau de Bizy, belonging to

the Duc de Penthievre.

The house, though of a primitive style of architecture, was better than

most of those I had passed. Being admitted, Larry having taken charge

of my horse, Monsieur Planterre received me with much courtesy, and,

telling me that I could not possibly reach the Chateau La Touche that

evening, invited me to take up my quarters at his house. I of course

was glad to accept his invitation, and Larry was at once sent round to

the stables with the horses. I took no further concern for him, being

well aware that he could make himself at home wherever he was.

Monsieur Planterre told me that he was acquainted with my friend La

Touche, and should be happy to accompany me to the chateau the next day.

I learned from him more of the state of things in France than I had

before known. He told me that republican principles were gaining ground

in all directions, and that the people were everywhere complaining of

the taxes imposed on them by the Government.

"Discontent indeed prevails everywhere, and unless reforms take place, I

know not what will be the result," he said, with a deep sigh. "Even in

this place the people are in an unsatisfactory state of mind."

I was introduced to Madame Planterre and her daughters, bright, pretty

young ladies, who seemed much attached to their parents. They gave me a

very pleasant idea of a French family of the upper middle class.

Next morning Monsieur Planterre asked me to defer starting for a couple

of hours, as he had to attend a meeting at the Town Hall, where he hoped

to propose some measure for the benefit of the poorer inhabitants. He

suggested that I should pass the intermediate time in taking a turn

through the town, and visiting an ancient tower and hospital founded by

Saint Louis, and other objects of interest.

Giving Larry directions to have the horses ready, I set out. Having

spent nearly two hours in visiting different parts of the town, I

ascended to the top of the ancient tower I have mentioned, from which I

obtained a fine view, not only of the picturesque old town, but along

the Seine for a considerable distance up and down, and also of the

Chateau de Bizy, with the fine avenue leading to it. I was about to

descend, when I saw a vast number of people emerging from the various

streets into a broad space called the Place, a short distance below me.

From their movements they appeared highly excited, for loud cries and

shouts reached my ears. The greater number were armed, either with

muskets, pikes, scythes, swords, or other weapons. As I was curious to

know what they were about, I hastened down, and made my way along the

street leading to the Place. I had no fear of going among the people,

for I did not suppose that they would interfere with me. Many of those

I passed were of respectable appearance, and as I got into the Place I

inquired of one of them what they were about to do.

"They have just tried and condemned to death one of our principal

citizens, Monsieur Planterre, who has always proved himself one of their

best friends," was the reply.

"Monsieur Planterre!" I exclaimed. "Where is he?"

My friend was pointed out to me, in the midst of a band of ruffians, who

were dragging him forward, shouting, "_A la lanterne! a la lanterne_!"

Seized with an impulse I could not control, to preserve, if I could, the

life of my kind host, I dashed forward through the crowd. The people

made way for me, until I reached his side.

"Good people of Vernon, what are you about to do?" I exclaimed. "I

hear every one speaking in favour of Monsieur Planterre, and yet you

threaten him with instant death."

My friend, whilst I was speaking, stood pale and trembling; the rope was

round his neck, and the ruffians had hold of the end, as if eager to

strangle him.

"What has he done to outweigh his kind deeds?" I asked.

No answer was vouchsafed, the mob only shouting the louder, "_A la

lanterne! a la lanterne_!"

"Who are you, young stranger? Be off with you, or you shall share his

fate," cried out a big ruffian; and many of them pressing on, shoved me

aside, endeavouring to separate me from their intended victim.

I saw that it was a moment for action,--that should I exhibit the

slightest hesitation the life of a worthy man would be sacrificed; and,

regardless of the danger I myself ran from the fury of the excited

crowd, again dashing forward, I succeeded in reaching Monsieur

Planterre, round whom I threw my arms, and held him fast.

"You shall not injure him. Back, all of you!" I shouted. "I will not

allow you to destroy an honest man. There must be some mistake. You

are not executioners, you are assassins, and are about to commit a deed

of which you will repent."

Notwithstanding what I said, the ruffians still pressed upon us, and

attempted to drag Monsieur Planterre away, shouting, "_A la lanterne_!"

but I held him fast.

"My friends," I cried,--"for I will not call you enemies,--if you hang

this man you must hang me, for alive I will not be separated from him,

and you will be guilty of the murder of two honest men instead of one."

As I spoke a reaction suddenly took place; my words had even more effect

than I expected on the volatile crowd. One of them rushed forward and

removed the rope from Monsieur Planterre's neck.

"You have saved his life!" cried another.

"You are a brave fellow!" shouted a third. "Long live the noble

Englishman! he is worthy of our regard."

These and similar cries burst from the throats of numbers standing

round, and were echoed by the would-be executioners. Before I knew what

was about to happen, a number of them, rushing forward, lifted me on

their shoulders, and carried me along in triumph, shouting and singing,

while Monsieur Planterre's friends, who had been watching the

opportunity, pressing forward, hurried him away in another direction.

To my infinite satisfaction, I saw him carried off, while I was borne

along by the crowd, who shouted and sang in my praise until their voices

were hoarse.

I thought it wise to submit to the honours paid me; at the same time I

could not tell at what moment the feelings of the fickle mob might

change, and perhaps they might carry me to the _lanterne_ instead of the

man I had rescued. I made the best of my position, and kept bowing to

the mob right and left, expressing my admiration for France and

Frenchmen in the most glowing terms I could command.

This seemed to please them mightily; but I was curious to know what they

were going to do with me. They appeared highly delighted at having an

object on which to bestow their admiration. First they carried me round

and round the Place, shouting and cheering, while they told all who came

up what I had done. Perhaps they found it quite as amusing as hanging

their townsman.

At last some one proposed that they should carry me to the Hotel de

Ville. The proposal was received with acclamations by the crowd, and my

bearers set off, several of them going before cheering and

gesticulating, while, as we passed through the narrow, crooked streets,

the people looked out from the windows, waving coloured handkerchiefs

and shawls, for by this time the whole town had heard, with perhaps a

few exaggerations, of the act I had performed. On arriving at the Town

Hall, I saw a number of gentlemen in full dress, with various insignia,

whom I suspected to be the civic authorities, standing on the steps,

drawn up to welcome me. My bearers halted when a small gentleman, in a

powdered wig and cocked hat, who was, I found, the mayor, stepping in

front of the rest, made me a long oration, at which the mob cheered and

cheered again. I then found, from all eyes being turned towards me,

that it was expected I should say something in return. I accordingly

expressed, in the best French I could command, my sense of the honour

done me, and my satisfaction at having been the means of saving the life

of one who, from his many virtues, was esteemed by his fellow-citizens;

and I added I felt sure that those who had intended to put him to death

were under an erroneous impression, as was shown by the generous way in

which they treated me. I now begged to thank my bearers for having

carried me so long on their shoulders, and, unwilling though I was to

descend from so honourable a position, I requested that they would have

the goodness to put me down on my feet that I might see their faces, so

that I might be able at any future time to recognise them, which I owned

I should at present be unable to do.

After some demur, they at last acceded to my request, letting me down on

my feet. When I did see their countenances, it struck me that they were

as hideous a set of ruffians as any of those I had before seen.

Concealing my feelings, however, I shook each of them by the hand,

calling them my dear brothers, and assuring them that I should never

forget the honour done me. After they had shaken themselves and

stretched their brawny limbs, they appeared inclined to get hold of me

again and carry me off on another round of the Place. Feeling

especially unwilling, for the reason I have before given, to undergo

another ovation, I stepped back among the civic authorities, and got

inside the Town Hall, conducted by a gentleman, who whispered that he

was a friend of Monsieur Planterre's, and that he had been sent by him

to escort me back to his house.

"Monsieur Planterre is anxious to get out of the town as soon as

possible, and advises you to do the same, for we cannot tell at what

moment the mob may change their minds, and perhaps take it into their

heads to hang you and him together," he said, as, leading me through the

Town Hall, he conducted me out by a back door.

"We are going by a somewhat circuitous route to the house of Monsieur

Planterre, where he himself is waiting for us," he continued, as we

walked on together. "Your horses are in readiness, and he has had one

prepared for himself, so that you may start as soon as you arrive."

As we passed through the streets we could hear the shouts of the people

in the distance, but what they were about we could not tell. My guide

appeared to be in a somewhat agitated state, as if he feared that they

would commit some other deed of violence, to recompense themselves for

losing the pleasure of hanging Monsieur Planterre.

On arriving before the house I found Larry holding three horses.

Presently a serving-man came out and took hold of the rein of one of the

animals. On looking at him, to my surprise I recognised Monsieur

Planterre himself.

"I think it wise to leave the town in this disguise, lest the mob should

suddenly regret having allowed me to escape, and, seeing me go, pursue

me," he said.

I immediately mounted, and Monsieur Planterre, pointing out the road I

was to take, I moved forward, followed by him and Larry, they appearing

in the characters of my two lackeys. They kept close behind me, in

order that Monsieur Planterre might tell me when to turn to the right or

left. He evidently expected that we should be pursued, but though I

looked round occasionally, I could see no one following us.

Upon the road Monsieur Planterre rode up to my side, and gave me a good

deal of information, both about my friend's family and that of other

families in the neighbourhood.

"I am grateful to you," he continued, "for the service you have rendered

me, and I am anxious for your safety. I would advise you, therefore, to

make no long stay in France. The whole country is, I can assure you,

like a volcano, ready to burst forth at any moment. The people are

generally imbued with republican principles, and they have lost all

respect for the priests; they complain of the heavy taxes which go to

support a profligate court; and are weary of the tyranny under which

they have so long groaned."

"But has not the king a powerful army to keep them in order?" I

inquired.

"The army cannot be depended on," answered my friend. "It is thoroughly

disorganised, and at any moment may side with the people. The only

reliable troops are the Swiss, and other foreigners. We are coming upon

troublous times, of that I am confident."

Until now I had known nothing of France, and had fancied that Frenchmen

were a light-hearted race, thoroughly contented with themselves and

their country; indeed, I even now scarcely believed what Monsieur

Planterre told me.

In less than a couple of hours we caught sight of an ancient mansion,

with a high roof, and towers at the corners, standing up amid the trees.

"There is the Chateau la Touche," said my companion. "I will not

present myself in this disguise at the front gate, but when you descend

will accompany your servant, who has not discovered who I am, and takes

me for one of his fellows."

On arriving at the gate, Monsieur Planterre, having given his horse to

Larry, went up the steps and rang the bell, and then came down and held

my steed whilst I dismounted. As soon as the door opened he led my

horse off.

La Touche, who had been advised of my arrival, hurried out to meet me,

and embraced me affectionately according to the French fashion.

"Overjoyed to see you, my dear friend," he exclaimed. "I have been long

looking for you, and am delighted that you have been induced to come. I

have been preparing various entertainments, as I wish to show you how we

Frenchmen enjoy life."

I said everything that was proper in return, when, after he had made

many inquiries as to how I had come to France, and the adventures I had

met with on my journey, he added--

"Now I must introduce you to madame _ma mere_ and my young sister. They

are prepared to receive you as a friend, and are delighted to find that

you possess the accomplishment of speaking French."

He forthwith led me into a handsome _salon_, or drawing-room, in which I

saw two ladies seated, engaged in embroidery work. They both rose as we

entered. The eldest was a stately and handsome dame, but my eyes were

naturally attracted by the younger. It was fortunate, perhaps, that

Monsieur Planterre had described her, or I do not know how I should have

behaved myself. She was in truth the most lovely little damsel I had

ever seen, fair, and of exquisite figure, with blue, laughing eyes.

They received me without any form, as if I had been an old friend, and I

at once felt myself perfectly at home. Without speaking of my

adventures at Vernon, I told them of my landing, and highly amused them

with the description of the way in which I had found my follower Larry

compelled to act the part of a bear. I said how grateful I felt to the

worthy mayor for the assistance he had given me, as also for his

introduction to Monsieur Planterre. While I was speaking, La Touche was

summoned out of the room by a servant. He in a short time returned, and

then, to my surprise, gave his mother and sister a full account of the

way I had rescued Monsieur Planterre from the hands of the mob.

Mademoiselle Sophie appeared to be highly interested, and kept looking

at me while her brother was speaking, and, although she did not join in

the praises her mother lavished upon me for what she called my gallant

conduct, evidently regarded me as a hero.

"You have come into our country in what I fear will prove troublous

times," observed La Touche, as we were seated at the supper table. "The

people are inclined to take the law into their own hands in other places

besides Vernon, and are specially ill-disposed towards the _noblesse_,

who, they declare, have been living on the fat of the land, while they

have been starving. Our friend Monsieur Planterre, after what has

occurred, not considering his life safe in the town, has come out here,

but thought it wiser not to appear as a guest, lest it should be

reported that I have entertained him. My people suppose him to be a

lackey, as he acts the part to admiration; and he will take his

departure to-morrow morning, without, I hope, being discovered, so that

they will all be ready to declare that Monsieur Planterre has not come

to the chateau."

"Yes, there is a sad time coming for France, from what I hear is taking

place in Paris," said Madame La Touche. "The people have already got

the upper hand, and the king himself is, I fear, in hourly peril of his

life."

"Ah! we must not think or talk about such things too much," said La

Touche. "My object at present is to make our guest's stay in France

pleasant, and not to speak of disagreeable subjects. Sophie will, I am

sure, aid me in that object."

Sophie smiled, and said that such an occupation would afford her much

pleasure.

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