to slip out without any one perceiving it. The
attempt was desperate, but so was the situation. The officer was
buried in the passports, holding them near his face to catch the dim
light. The door was fastened upon the outside, and so, watching him,
I leaned far out of the window until I was able to reach the catch
and unfasten the door. A slight push, and it swung noiselessly open. I
glanced at the officer: he was intently reading the _last_ passport. I
had placed one foot upon the outside step, and was about to glide out
into the darkness, when he laid the paper down and looked directly at
me.

It would have been madness to attempt an escape with his eyes upon me;
so, assuming as nonchalant a look as my present feelings would allow,
I answered his inquiring glance with one of confident assurance.

He saw my nonchalant expression. He saw the open pocket-book in my
hand. He had _not_ counted the number of passports. All the passengers
were settling themselves to sleep. It must be all right; so, with
a polite "Bon soir, messieurs!" he bowed and left the carriage. My
sensation of relief may be better imagined than described. Hardly had
he left our carriage when we heard the sound of voices and hurrying
feet upon the platform, and looking out saw some unfortunate
individual carried off under guard. I trembled as I thought how
narrowly I had escaped his fate. In a few moments, however, we were
safely on our way to Geneva, and as we sped on into the darkness,
while congratulating myself upon my fortunate escape, I firmly
resolved to be better prepared for the emergency the next time I
should hear those memorable words, "Passports, gentlemen!"

A.H.

OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.

THE CORNWALLIS FAMILY.

The death was lately announced of two of the last survivors--only
one of the name is now left--of a family whose chief played a very
conspicuous, and for himself unfortunate, part in this country a
century ago--the marquis Cornwallis. His only son, who married a
daughter of the celebrated match-making duchess of Gordon, left no
male issue, but five daughters. Two of them, the countess of St.
Germans--wife of the earl who accompanied the prince of Wales on his
visit here--and Lady Braybrook, died some years ago; and recently
Lady Mary Ross, whose husband edited the correspondence of the first
marquis, and Lady Louisa, who never married, have also gone to their
graves.

The family of Cornwallis is very ancient, and can