of the Corps de Guides (in which I now served as colonel), and
never recognized me. She therefore stared steadily at me, and turned
toward her brother as if for explanation.

"Don't you know him?" said the Archduke, laughing; "it's Colonel de
Tiernay, and if he can not stand up, _you_ certainly should be the last to
find fault with him. Pray, sit quiet, Tiernay," added he, pressing me down
on my seat; "and if you won't look so terrified, my sister will remember
you."

"We must both be more altered than I ever expect if I cease to remember M.
de Tiernay," said the Archduchess, with a most courteous smile. Then
leaning on the back of a chair, she bent forward and inquired after my
health. There was something so strange in the situation: a young, handsome
girl condescending to a tone of freedom and intimacy with one she had seen
but a couple of times, and from whom the difference of condition separated
her by a gulf wide as the great ocean, that I felt a nervous tremor I
could not account for. Perhaps, with the tact that royalty possesses as
its own prerogative, or, perhaps, with mere womanly intuition, she saw how
the interview agitated me, and, to change the topic, she suddenly said:

"I must present you to one of my ladies, Colonel de Tiernay, a
countrywoman of your own. She already has heard from me the story of your
noble devotion, and now only has to learn your name. Remember you are to
sit still."

As she said this, she turned, and drawing her arm within that of a young
lady behind her, led her forward.

"It is to this gentleman I owe my life, Mademoiselle D'Estelles."

I heard no more, nor did she either; for, faltering, she uttered a low,
faint sigh, and fell into the arms of those behind her.

"What's this, Tiernay!--how is all this?" whispered Prince Louis; "are you
acquainted with mademoiselle?"

But I forgot every thing; the presence in which I stood, the agony of a
wounded leg, and all, and, with a violent effort, sprung from my seat.

Before I could approach her, however, she had risen from the chair, and in
a voice broken and interrupted, said:

"You are so changed, M. de Tiernay--so much changed--that the shock
overpowered me. We became acquainted in the Tyrol, madame," said she to
the Princess, "where monsieur was a prisoner."

What observation the Princess made in reply I could not hear, but I saw
that Laura blushed deeply. To hide her awkwardness perhaps it was, that
she hurriedly entered in