ugh his manners and
education were those of a gentleman, still he seemed but little
acquainted with the world, and above all ignorant of the lighter
accomplishments of the courtier. Perhaps this very simplicity of
manner and frankness of character, contrasting so strangely with the
fashionable affectations of the court, endeared him to his comrades,
and strongly prepossessed Heloise de Clairville in his favor. His
rival was of a different stamp. Raoul de St. Prix was a dashing,
brilliant officer, brave as steel, but fond of dress, reckless,
dissipated, and extravagant. Yet his faults were those of his age, and
belonged to the circumstances by which he was surrounded. The Baron de
Clairville, while he left his daughter free to make her election, yet,
as a plain, blunt soldier, rather than a courtier, secretly inclined
to favor the pretensions of Henri. Still, his treatment of the two
young guardsmen was the same, for they gave equal promise of military
gallantry.

It was on the eve of the battle of Fontenoy that Henri sought an
interview with Heloise, who occupied a gay pavilion near her father's
tent. He found her alone and weeping.

"Mademoiselle," said he, "you are unhappy. Will you permit a friend to
inquire the cause of your sorrow?"

"Can you ask me, Monsieur de Grandville! Of the thousands of brave men
who lie down to-night in peaceful slumber, how many sleep their last
sleep on earth! How many eyes, that will witness to-morrow's sun
arise, will be closed forever before it goes down at evening! O, what
a dreadful business is this trade of war! My poor father, he never
cares for himself, he never asks his men to go where he is unwilling
to lead. I fear for his safety in the deadly conflict of to-morrow."

"If the devotion of one faithful follower can save him, lady,"
answered Henri, "be assured of his safety. I would pour out the blood
in my veins as freely as water to shield the father of Heloise de
Clairville."

"But you--you--Henri--Monsieur de Grandville--you think nothing of
your own life."

"If I fall," answered the young soldier, "my poor mother will weep
bitterly for her only son, though he perish on the field of honor. But
who else will shed a tear for the poor guardsman?"

"Henri!" exclaimed the young girl, reproachfully, and the soft eyes
she raised to his were filled with tears.

"Is it possible?" cried the young soldier. "Can my fate awaken even a
momentary interest in the heart of the lovel