, for I would rather see thy sister
reading some edifying book than passing her time on such vanities as
these are used for, they are bobbins, lad."

"Ha, Ha," laughed Hirzel, "were I to go into the market to-morrow and
say that stern Jacques Gaultier spent his hours carving out lace
bobbins, who would believe me?"

"Don't laugh at me, Hirzel, perhaps one of these fine days thou wilt do
something more foolish: when thy nineteen summers shall have ripened
like mine to thirty thou wilt have different thoughts."

"Time enough to speak when it comes. Now I love my boat better than
anything else! But how we are wasting this fine evening. My Father will
think we are lost or gone to be soldiers, eh Jacques? Come along, and we
will see what Marguerite thinks of those little sticks of thine."

CHAPTER II.

On the same evening of which we have been speaking Marguerite was
sitting just outside the door, employed as she generally was in her
leisure time at lace work, of the style which had been so fashionable
during the reign of the late murdered King. How Marguerite had first
learnt this "unedifying work," we know not but as she used to work for
the family of one of the King's officers, and had seen the ladies do it,
she soon with very little instruction learnt to do it well. Very pretty
Marguerite looked bending over her "lace pillow," weaving sweet
thoughts into her work, if we may judge from the expression of her face
which was one of those that "made one feel good to look at," as Charlie
often said, and indeed it was a good thing for him to take the
remembrance of such a face through his Barrack life, which at least was
a rough one.

Marguerite had not long been enjoying the quiet of her own society when
she heard her Father call her. She immediately obeyed his summons with
that strange feeling at her heart--that strange foreshadowing of
evil--to which we have all been subject at some time in our lives.
"Again at that silly work, girl; better for thee to get something to do
about the house than waste thy time over that useless finery; I'll
warrant me when thou art Jacques Gaultier's wife he will find thee other
work--mending his nets, mayhap!"

"My dear Father, I will never be Jacques Gaultier'a wife. I have told
him so oft: I doubt if he will ever speak to me on the subject again; he
will not risk hearing rude words from me, I fancy."

"I tell thee thou _shalt_ be Jacques Gaultier's wife, and that before
lon