, there was
nothing there to indicate the stormy strife of hope and fear that raged
beneath. From the rapid survey I took around I was roused by an officer,
who, saluting me, politely desired me to follow him. We mounted a flight of
stone steps which, outside the wall of the building, led to the upper story
of a large but ruined granary. Here a sentry was posted, who permitting us
to pass forward, I found myself in a small, mean-looking apartment, whose
few articles of coarse furniture were dimly lighted by the feeble glimmer
of a lamp. At the farther end of the room sat a man wrapped in a large blue
cavalry cloak, whose face, covered with his hands as he bent downward,
was completely concealed from view. The noise of the opening door did not
appear to arouse him, nor did he notice my approach. As I entered, a faint
sigh broke from him, as he turned his back upon the light; but he spoke not
a word.

I sat for some time in silence, unwilling to obtrude myself upon the
sorrows of one to whom I was unknown; and as I walked up and down the
gloomy chamber, my thoughts became riveted so completely upon my own
fortunes that I ceased to remember my fellow-prisoner. The hours passed
thus lazily along, when the door suddenly opened, and an officer in the
dress of a lancer of the guard stood for an instant before me, and then,
springing forward, clasped me by both hands, and called out,--

"Charles, mon ami, c'est bien toi?"

The voice recalled to my recollections what his features, altered by time
and years, had failed to do. It was Jules St. Croix, my former prisoner in
the Peninsula. I cannot paint the delight with which I saw him again; his
presence now, while it brought back the memory of some of my happiest days,
also assured me that I was not friendless.

His visit was a brief one, for he was in attendance on Marshal Lobau's
staff. In the few minutes, however, of his stay, he said,--

"I have a debt to pay, Charles, and have come to discharge it. In an hour
hence I shall leave this with despatches for the left of our line. Before
I go, I'll come here with two or three others, as it were, to wish you a
good-night. I'll take care to carry a second cloak and a foraging cap; I'll
provide a fast horse; you shall accompany us for some distance. I'll see
you safe across our pickets; for the rest, you must trust to yourself.
C'est arrange, n'est-ce-pas?"

One firm grasp of his hand, to which I responded by another, followed, a