ways came up, and why she did not send the girl,"
Mrs. Score informed the Count that her Catherine was gone out for a walk
along with the young man to whom she was to be married, and would not
be visible that day. On hearing this the Captain ordered his horses
that moment, and abused the wine, the bed, the house, the landlady, and
everything connected with the "Bugle Inn."

Out the horses came: the little boys of the village gathered round; the
recruits, with bunches of ribands in their beavers, appeared presently;
Corporal Brock came swaggering out, and, slapping the pleased blacksmith
on the back, bade him mount his horse; while the boys hurrah'd. Then the
Captain came out, gloomy and majestic; to him Mr. Brock made a military
salute, which clumsily, and with much grinning, the recruits imitated.
"I shall walk on with these brave fellows, your honour, and meet you at
Stratford," said the Corporal. "Good," said the Captain, as he
mounted. The landlady curtseyed; the children hurrah'd more; the little
horse-boy, who held the bridle with one hand and the stirrup with the
other, and expected a crown-piece from such a noble gentleman, got only
a kick and a curse, as Count von Galgenstein shouted, "D----- you all,
get out of the way!" and galloped off; and John Hayes, who had been
sneaking about the inn all the morning, felt a weight off his heart when
he saw the Captain ride off alone.

O foolish Mrs. Score! O dolt of a John Hayes! If the landlady had
allowed the Captain and the maid to have their way, and meet but for a
minute before recruits, sergeant, and all, it is probable that no
harm would have been done, and that this history would never have been
written.

When Count von Galgenstein had ridden half a mile on the Stratford road,
looking as black and dismal as Napoleon galloping from the romantic
village of Waterloo, he espied, a few score yards onwards, at the
turn of the road, a certain object which caused him to check his horse
suddenly, brought a tingling red into his cheeks, and made his heart to
go thump--thump! against his side. A young lass was sauntering slowly
along the footpath, with a basket swinging from one hand, and a bunch of
hedge-flowers in the other. She stopped once or twice to add a fresh one
to her nosegay, and might have seen him, the Captain thought; but
no, she never looked directly towards him, and still walked on. Sweet
innocent! she was singing as if none were near; her voice went soari