d no opportunity
to whisper so much as a single word into my dear Belle-bouche's ear.
Ah! how lovely she looked! By heaven, I'll go to-morrow and request
her to designate some form of death for me to die--all for her sake!"

With which words the forlorn Jacques gazed languidly through the
window.

At the same moment a bell was heard ringing in the direction of the
College; and yawning first luxuriously, the young man rose.

"Lecture, by Jove!" he said.

"And you, unfortunate victim, must attend," said his companion.

"Yes. You remain here?"

"To the end."

"Still resisting?"

"To the death!"

"Very well," said Jacques, putting on his cocked hat, which was
ornamented with a magnificent feather. "I half envy you; but duty
calls--I must go."

"If you see Ned Carter, or Tom Randolph of Tuckahoe, tell them to come
round."

"To comfort you? Poor unfortunate prisoner!"

"No, most sapient Jacques: fortunately I do not need comfort as you
do."

"I want comfort?"

"Yes; there you are sighing: that 'heigho!' was dreadful."

"Scoffer!"

"No; I am your rival."

"Very well; I warn you that I intend to push the siege; take care of
your interests."

"I'm not afraid."

"I am going to see Belle-bouche again to-morrow.

"Faith, I'll be there, then."

"Good; war is opened then--the glove thrown?"

"War to the death! Good-by, publican!"

"Farewell, sinner!"

And with these words the melancholy Jacques departed.

CHAPTER II.

JACQUES SHOWS THE ADVANTAGE OF BEING LED CAPTIVE BY A CROOK.

It was a delicious day, such a day as the month of flowers alone can
bring into the world, and all nature seemed to be rejoicing. The peach
and cherry blossoms shone like snow upon the budding trees, the oriole
shot from elm to elm, a ball of fire against a background of blue and
emerald, and from every side came the murmuring flow of streamlets,
dancing in the sun and filling the whole landscape with their joyous
music.

May reigned supreme--a tender blue-eyed maiden, treading upon a carpet
of young grass with flowers in their natural colors; and nowhere were
her smiles softer or more bright than there at Shadynook, which looks
still on the noble river flowing to the sea, and on the distant town
of Williamsburg, from which light clouds of smoke curl upward and are
lost in the far-reaching azure.

Shadynook was one of those old hip-roofed houses which the traveller
of to-day meets with so frequently, scattere