e tall, slight figure of the officer. He carried
himself in a stately manner, although he was past middle age, and from
his years, might have had some excuse for a slight stoop. As I looked
at the man, he turned round, his eyes met mine, and I saw his face.
Deeply lined, sallow, and scathed was that countenance; scarred by
passion as well as by the fortunes of war. 'Twas but a moment our eyes
met. We each turned round, and went on our separate way.

But his whole appearance was not one to be easily forgotten; the
thorough appointment of the dress, and evident thought bestowed on it,
made but an incongruous whole with the dark, gloomy expression of his
countenance. Because he was Lucy's father, I sought instinctively to
meet him everywhere. At last he must have become aware of my
pertinacity, for he gave me a haughty scowl whenever I passed him. In
one of these encounters, however, I chanced to be of some service to
him. He was turning the corner of a street, and came suddenly on one of
the groups of discontented Flemings of whom I have spoken. Some words
were exchanged, when my gentleman out with his sword, and with a slight
but skilful cut drew blood from one of those who had insulted him, as
he fancied, though I was too far off to hear the words. They would all
have fallen upon him had I not rushed forwards and raised the cry, then
well known in Antwerp, of rally, to the Austrian soldiers who were
perpetually patrolling the streets, and who came in numbers to the
rescue. I think that neither Mr. Gisborne nor the mutinous group of
plebeians owed me much gratitude for my interference. He had planted
himself against a wall, in a skilful attitude of fence, ready with his
bright glancing rapier to do battle with all the heavy, fierce, unarmed
men, some six or seven in number. But when his own soldiers came up, he
sheathed his sword; and, giving some careless word of command, sent
them away again, and continued his saunter all alone down the street,
the workmen snarling in his rear, and more than half-inclined to fall
on me for my cry for rescue. I cared not if they did, my life seemed so
dreary a burden just then; and, perhaps, it was this daring loitering
among them that prevented their attacking me. Instead, they suffered me
to fall into conversation with them; and I heard some of their
grievances. Sore and heavy to be borne were they, and no wonder the
sufferers were savage and desperate.

The man whom Gisborne had wou