d be held by a Bernac than
by a stranger. From the brother of your mother you will at least always
meet with sympathy and consideration.

'And now I have some advice for you. You know that I have always been
a Republican, but it has become evident to me that there is no use in
fighting against fate, and that Napoleon's power is far too great to be
shaken. This being so, I have tried to serve him, for it is well to
howl when you are among wolves. I have been able to do so much for
him that he has become my very good friend, so that I may ask him what
I like in return. He is now, as you are probably aware, with the army
at Boulogne, within a few miles of Grosbois. If you will come over at
once he will certainly forget the hostility of your father in
consideration of the services of your uncle. It is true that your name
is still proscribed, but my influence with the Emperor will set that
matter right. Come to me, then, come at once, and come with confidence.
'Your uncle,
'C. BERNAC.'

So much for the letter, but it was the outside which had puzzled me
most. A seal of red wax had been affixed at either end, and my uncle
had apparently used his thumb as a signet. One could see the little
rippling edges of a coarse skin imprinted upon the wax. And then above
one of the seals there was written in English the two words, 'Don't
come.' It was hastily scrawled, and whether by a man or a woman it was
impossible to say; but there it stared me in the face, that sinister
addition to an invitation.

'Don't come!' Had it been added by this unknown uncle of mine on
account of some sudden change in his plans? Surely that was
inconceivable, for why in that case should he send the invitation at
all? Or was it placed there by some one else who wished to warn me from
accepting this offer of hospitality? The letter was in French. The
warning was in English. Could it have been added in England? But the
seals were unbroken, and how could any one in England know what were the
contents of the letter?

And then, as I sat there with the big sail humming like a shell above my
head and the green water hissing beside me, I thought over all that I
had heard of this uncle of mine. My father, the descendant of one of
the proudest and oldest families in France, had chosen beauty and virtue
rather than rank in his wife. Never for an hour had she given him