flux and reflux of population, all eager and
intent on business, were strange spectacles to our eyes as we loitered,
houseless and friendless, through the streets, staring in wonderment at
the wealth and prosperity of that land we were taught to believe was
tottering to bankruptcy.

Santron affected to be pleased with all, talked of the "beau pillage" it
would afford one day or other; but in reality this appearance of riches
and prosperity seemed to depress and discourage him. Both French and
American writers had agreed in depicting the pauperism and discontent of
England, and yet where were the signs of it? Not a house was untenanted,
every street was thronged, every market filled; the equipages of the
wealthy vied with the loaded wagons in number; and if there were not the
external evidences of happiness and enjoyment the gayer population of
other countries display, there was an air of well-being and comfort such
as no other land could exhibit.

Another very singular trait made a deep impression on us. Here were
these islanders with a narrow strait only separating them from a land
bristling with bayonets. The very roar of the artillery at exercise
might be almost heard across the gulf, and yet not a soldier was to be
seen about! There were neither forts nor bastions. The harbor, so
replete with wealth, lay open and unprotected, not even a gun-boat or a
guard-ship to defend it! There was an insolence in this security that
Santron could not get over, and he muttered a prayer that the day might
not be distant that should make them repent it.

He was piqued with every thing. While on board ship we had agreed
together to pass ourselves for Canadians, to avoid all inquiries of the
authorities! Heaven help us! The authorities never thought of us. We
were free to go or stay as we pleased. Neither police nor passport
officers questioned us. We might have been Hoche and Massena for aught
they either knew or cared. Not a "mouchard" tracked us; none even looked
after us as we went. To me this was all very agreeable and reassuring;
to my companion it was contumely and insult. All the ingenious fiction
he had devised of our birth, parentage, and pursuits, was a fine romance
inedited, and he was left to sneer at the self-sufficiency that would
not take alarm at the advent of two ragged youths on the quay of
Liverpool.

"If they but knew who we were, Maurice," he kept continually muttering
as we went along. "If these fellows only