uin, felt that a sonorous prayer, such as his old father used to make
in the Methodist meeting-house, would be a good thing wherewith to
freight Auburn Risque for his voyage. When men stake everything on a
chance, it is natural to look up to somebody who governs chances; but
Andy Plade, in his loud, bad way, proposed a huge toast, which they took
with a cheer, and quite confused Hugenot, who had a sentiment _apropos_.

Then they escorted Auburn Risque to the Chemin de fer du Nord,[C] and
packed him away in a third-class carriage, wringing his hand as if he
were their only hope and friend in the world.

[Footnote C: Northern Railway Station.]

III.

DEATH IN EXPATRIATION.

It was a weary day for the Southern Colony. They strolled about town--to
the Masque, the Jardin des Plantes, the Champ des Mars, the Marche aux
Chevaux, and finally to Freckle's place, and essayed a lugubrious hour
at whist.

"It is poor fun, Pisgah," said Mr. Simp, at last, "if we remember that
afternoon at poker when you won eight thousand francs and I lost six
thousand."

The conversation forever returned to Spa and Baden-Baden, and many
wagers were made upon the amount of money which Risque would gain--first
day--second day--first week, and so forth.

At last they resolved to send to Lees' chamber for the roulette-board,
and pass the evening in experiment. They drew Jacks for the party who
should fetch it, and Freckle, always unfortunate, was pronounced the
man. He went cheerfully, thinking it quite an honor to serve the Colony
in any capacity--for Freckle, representing a disaffected State, had
fallen under suspicion of lukewarm loyalty, and was most anxious to
clear up any such imputation.

His head was full of odd remembrances as he crossed the Place St.
Sulpice: his plain old father at the old border home, close and
hard-handed, who went afield with his own negroes, and made his sons
take the plough-handles, and marched them all before him every Sunday to
the plank church, and led the singing himself with an ancient
tuning-fork, and took up the collection in a black velvet bag fastened
to a pole.

He had foreseen the war, and sent his son abroad to avoid it. He had
given Freckle sufficient money to travel for five years, and told him in
the same sentence to guard his farthings and say his prayers. Freckle
could see the old man now, with a tear poised on his tangled eyelashes,
asking a farewell benediction from the front port