he happier, perhaps," said the lad sadly.

"Oh, I don't know," said Waller. "I am afraid I don't know much about
what's going on. I am fond of being out here in the woods. It is
holiday-time now my father's out. But I say," he continued, with a
frank laugh, "isn't it rather funny that you and I should be talking
together like this, after--you know--such a little while ago?"

"Yes, I suppose so; but I thought you were one of the enemy coming to
take me."

"Yes," said Waller; "and I don't know what I thought about you when I
was looking down the barrel of that pistol."

"I--I beg your pardon," faltered the lad. "I was half-mad."

"Quite mad, I think," said Waller to himself. Then aloud, "But, I say,
why were you here?"

"I was hiding; trying to get down to the coast and make my way back to
France. The soldiers have been hunting me for days, but I have escaped
so far."

"To get back to France?" said Waller. "But are you not English?"

"Yes, of course. Don't I speak like an Englishman?"

"Well, there is a little something queer about it," said Waller--"a sort
of accent."

"I said English," continued the other, "but my family, the Boynes, are
of Irish descent, and staunch followers of the Stuarts."

"Yes; but that's all over now, you know," said Waller. "Don't you think
you had better give all that up and go back?"

"I was trying to go back," said the lad despairingly.

"Or stop here."

"You talk like a follower of the Pretender," said the lad bitterly.

"That I don't!" cried Waller indignantly. "My father is a magistrate,
and a staunch supporter of King George. But there, I didn't mean to
talk like that," he cried, as he noted the change that came over his
companion's face. "Here, I say, never mind about politics. You look--
well, very ill. Hadn't you better go home?"

"Go home! How? Separated from my friends, who perhaps by now are
dead!" The words came with a sob, "Go! How? Hunted from place to
place like a wolf!" He tried to rise, but sank back. "Ill? Yes," he
groaned; "deadly faint. You don't know what I have suffered. I am
starving."

"How long have you been here?" said Waller, whose sympathies were
growing more and more strong in favour of his prisoner.

"I don't know. Days."

"But why were you starving?" said Waller half-indignantly.

"Why should I not be?" said the boy bitterly. "Alone in these wilds."

"Well," cried Waller. "I shouldn't have starved if I had bee