hardly crawl, the day was at hand, it was a nipping, rigorous morning; King was lashing his horses, I was giving an arm to the old colonel, and the major was coughing in our rear. I must suppose that King was a thought careless, being nearly in desperation about his team, and in spite of the cold morning, breathing hot with his exertions. We came, at last, a little before sunrise, to the summit of a hill, and saw the high-road passing at right angles through an open country of meadows and hedgerow pollards; and not only the York mail, speeding smoothly at the gallop of the four horses, but a post-chaise besides, with the postboy titupping briskly, and the traveler himself putting his head out of the window, but whether to breathe the dawn, or the better to observe the passage of the mail, I do not know. So that we enjoyed for an instant a picture of free life on the road, in its most luxurious forms of despatch and comfort. And thereafter, with a poignant feeling of contrast in our hearts, we must mount again into our wheeled dungeon. We came to our stages at all sorts of odd hours, and they were in all kinds of odd places. I may say at once that my first experience was my best. Nowhere again were we so well entertained as at Burchell Fenn's. And this, I suppose, was natural and, indeed, inevitable in so long and secret a journey. The first stop, we lay six hours in a barn standing by itself in a poor, marshy orchard, and packed with hay. To make it more attractive, we were told it had been the scene of an abominable murder and was now haunted. But the day was beginning to break, and our fatigue was too extreme for visionary terrors. The second or third, we alighted on a barren heath about midnight, built a fire to warm us under the shelter of some thorns, supped like beggars on bread and a piece of cold bacon, and slept like gipsies with our feet to the fire. In the meanwhile, King was gone with the cart, I know not where, to get a change of horses, and it was late in the dark morning when he returned and we were able to resume our journey. In the middle of another night, we came to a stop by an ancient, white-washed cottage of two stories; a privet hedge surrounded it; the frosty moon shone blankly on the upper windows; but through those of the kitchen the firelight was seen glinting on the roof and reflected from the dishes on the wall. Here, after much hammering on the door, King managed to arouse an old crone from the chimney-corner chair, where she had been dozing in the watch; and we were had in, and entertained with a dish of hot tea. This old lady was an aunt of Burchell Fenn's-and an unwilling partner in his dangerous trade. Though the house stood solitary, and the hour was an unlikely one for any passenger upon the road, King and she conversed in whispers only. There was something dismal, something of the sick-room, in this perpetual, guarded sibilation. The apprehensions of our hostess insensibly communicated themselves to every one present. We ate like mice in a cat's ear; if one of us jingled a teaspoon, all would start; and when the hour came to take the road again, we drew a long breath of relief, and climbed to our places in the covered cart with a positive sense of escape. The most of our meals, however, were taken boldly at hedgerow alehouses, usually at untimely hours of the day, when the clients were in the field or the farmyard at labor. I shall have to tell presently of our last experience of the sort, and how unfortunately it miscarried; but as that was the signal for my separation from my fellow-travelers, I must first finish with them. I had never any occasion to waver in my first judgment of the colonel. The old gentleman seemed to me, and still seems in the retrospect, the salt of the earth. I had occasion to see him in the extremes of hardship, hunger, and cold; he was dying, and he looked it; and yet I cannot remember any hasty, harsh, or impatient word to have fallen from his lips. On the contrary, he ever showed himself careful to please, and even if he rambled in his talk, rambled always gently-like a humane, half-witted old hero, true to his colors to the last. I would not dare to say how often he awoke suddenly from a lethargy and told us again, as though we had never heard it, the story of how he had earned the cross, how it had been given him by the hand of the emperor, and of the innocent and, indeed, foolish-sayings of his daughter when he returned with it on his bosom. He had another anecdote which he was very apt to give, by way of a rebuke, when the major wearied us beyond endurance with dispraises of the English. This was an account of the "braves gens' with whom he had been boarding. True enough, he was a man so simple and grateful by nature that the most common civilities were able to touch him to the heart and would remain written in his memory; but from a thousand inconsiderable but of which we were sometimes unable to guess. On the very last day he began again his eternal story of the cross and the emperor. The major, who was particularly ill, or at least particularly cross, uttered some angry words of protest. "Pardonnez moi, monsieur le commandant, mais c'est pour monsieur," said the colonel. "Monsieur has not yet heard the circumstance, and is good enough to feel an interest.' Presently after, however, he began to lose the thread of his narrative; and at last: Qué que j'ai? Je m'embrouille!" says he. "Suffit: s'm'a la donné, et Berthe en etait bien contente." It struck me as the falling of the curtain or the closing of the sepulchre doors. 46 conclusive indications, I gathered that this indifferent. An old rustic accent of Lower family had really loved him and loaded Normandy reappeared in his speech, from him with kindness. They made a fire in which it had long been banished, and grew his bedroom, which the sons and daugh- stronger; old words of the patois, too: ters tended with their own hands; letters ouistreham, matrassé, and others, the sense from France were looked for with scarce more eagerness by himself than by these alien sympathizers; when they came, he would read them aloud in the parlor to the assembled family, translating as he went. The colonel's English was elementary; his daughter was not in the least likely to be an amusing correspondent; and as I conceived these scenes in the parlor, I felt sure that the interest centered in the colonel himself, and I thought I could feel in my own heart that mixture of the ridiculous and the pathetic, the contest of tears and laughter, which must have shaken the bosoms of the family. Their kindness had continued till the end. It appears they were privy to his flight, the camlet cloak had been lined expressly for him, and he was the bearer of a letter from the daughter of the house to his own daughter in Paris. The last evening, when the time came to say good-night, it was tacitly known to all that they were to look upon his face no more. He rose, pleading fatigue, and turned to the daughter, who had been his chief ally: "You will permit me, my dear—to an old and very unhappy soldier-and may God bless you for your goodness!" The girl threw her arms about his neck and sobbed upon his bosom; the lady of the house burst into tears; "et je vous le jure, le père se mouchait!" quoth the colonel, twisting his mustaches with a cavalry air, and at the same time blinking the water from his eyes at the mere recollection. It was a good thought to me that he had found these friends in captivity; that he had started on this fatal journey from so cordial a farewell. He had broken his parole for his daughter; that he should ever live to reach her sick-bed, that he could continue to endure to an end the hardships, the crushing fatigue, the savage cold, of our pilgrimage, I had early ceased to hope. I did for him what I was able, nursed him, kept him covered, watched over his slumbers, sometimes held him in my arms at the rough places of the road. 'Champdivers," he once said, “you are like a son to me like a son." And it is good to remember, though at the time it put me on the rack. All was to no purpose. Fast as we were traveling towards France, he was traveling faster still and to another destination. Daily he grew weaker and more 66 Sure enough, in but a little while after, he fell into a sleep as gentle as an infant's, which insensibly changed into the sleep of death. I had my arm about his body at the time, and remarked nothing, unless it were that he once stretched himself a little, so kindly the end came to that disastrous life. It was only at our evening halt that the major and I discovered we were traveling alone with the poor clay. That night we stole a spade from a field-I think near Market Bosworth-and a little farther on, in a wood of young oak trees and by the light of King's lantern, we buried the old soldier of the Empire with both prayers and tears. We had needs invent Heaven if it had not been revealed to us; there are some things that fall so bitterly ill on this side Time! As for the major, I have long since forgiven him. He broke the news to the poor colonel's daughter; I am told he did it kindly, and sure nobody could have done it without tears! His share of purgatory will be brief; and in this world, as I could not very well praise him, I have suppressed his name. The colonel's also, for the sake of his parole. Requiescant. CHAPTER XV. THE ADVENTURE OF THE ATTORNEY'S I HAVE mentioned our usual course, which was to eat in inconsiderable wayside hostelries, known to King. It was a dangerous business: we went daily under fire "Well do I do that! said I. "The French accent? Why, I believe I can tell a Frenchman in ten words.' to satisfy our appetite, and put our head in the lion's mouth for a piece of bread. Sometimes, to minimize the risk, we would all dismount before we came in view of the "Here is a puzzle for you, then!" he house, straggle in severally, and give what said. "I have no material doubt myself, orders we pleased, like disconnected but some of these gentlemen are more strangers. In like manner we departed, backward. The lack of education, you know. I make bold to say that a man cannot walk, cannot hear, and cannot see, without the blessings of education. to find the cart at an appointed place, some half a mile beyond. The colonel and the major had each a word or two of English-help their pronunciation! But they did well enough to order a rasher and a pot or call a reckoning; and to say the truth, these country folks did not give themselves the pains, and had scarce the knowledge, to be critical. About nine or ten at night the pains of hunger and cold drove us to an alehouse in the flats of Bedfordshire, not far from Bedford itself. In the inn kitchen was a long, lean, characteristic-looking fellow of perhaps forty, dressed in black. He sat on a settle by the fireside, smoking a long pipe, such as they call a yard of clay. His hat and wig were hanged upon the knob behind him, his head as bald as a bladder of lard, and his expression very shrewd, cantankerous, and inquisitive. He seemed to value himself above his company, to give himself the airs of a man of the world among that rustic herd; which was often no more than his due, being, as I afterwards discovered, an attorney's clerk. I took upon myself the more ungrateful part of arriving last; and by the time I entered on the scene, the major was already served at a side table. Some general conversation must have passed, and I smelled danger in the air. The major looked flustered, the attorney's clerk triumphant, and the three or four peasants in smockfrocks (who sat about the fire to play chorus) had let their pipes go out. "Give you good evening, sir! attorney's clerk to me. said the He turned to the major, whose food plainly stuck in his throat. "Now, sir," pursued the clerk, "let me have the pleasure to hear your voice again. Where are you going, did you say?" "Sare, I am go-ing to Lon-don," said the major. I could have flung my plate at him to be such an ass and to have so little a gift of languages where that was the essential. 66 What think ye of that?" said the clerk. "Is that French enough?" "Well, well!" cried I, leaping up like one who should suddenly perceive an acquaintance, "is this you, Mr. Dubois? Why, who would have dreamed of encountering you so far from home?" As I spoke, I shook hands with the major heartily; and turning to our tormentor, “Oh, sir, you may be perfectly reassured! This is a very honest fellow, a late neighbor of mine in the city of Carlisle." I thought the attorney looked put out; I little knew the man. "But he is French," said he, "for all that?" "Ay, to be sure!" said I. "A Frenchman of the emigration! None of your Bonaparte lot. I will warrant his views of politics to be as sound as your own." What is a little strange," said the clerk quietly, "is that Mr. Dubois should deny it." I got it fair in the face, and took it smiling; but the shock was rude, and in the course of the next words I contrived to do what I have rarely done and make a slip in my English. I kept my liberty and life by my proficiency all these months, and for once that I failed it is not to be supposed that I would make a public exhibition of the details. Enough that it was a very little error, and one that might have passed ninety-nine times in a hundred. But my limb of the law was as swift to pick it up as though he had been by trade a master of languages. But you know the French accent, per- Frenchmen coming into an alehouse, sevhaps?" said the clerk. erally and accidentally, not knowing each other, at ten of the clock at night, in the middle of Bedfordshire? No, sir, that shall not pass! You are all prisoners escaping, if you are nothing worse. Consider yourselves under arrest. I have to trouble you for your papers." "Where is your warrant, if you come to that?" said I. "My papers! A likely thing that I would show my papers on the ipse dixit of an unknown fellow in a hedge alehouse!" "Would you resist the law?" says he. "Not the law, sir," said I. "I hope I am too good a subject for that. But for a nameless fellow with a bald head and a pair of gingham small-clothes, why, certainly! 'Tis my birthright as an English man. Where's Magna Charta, else?" "We will see about that," says he; and then, addressing the assistants, "Where does the constable live?"’ "Lord love you, sir!" cried the landlord, "what are you thinking of? The constable at past ten at night! Why, he's abed and asleep, and good and drunk two hours agone!' "Ah, that a' be!" came in chorus from the yokels. The attorney's clerk was put to a stand. He could not think of force; there was little sign of martial ardor about the landlord, and the peasants were indifferent they only listened, and gaped, and now scratched a head, and now would get a light to their pipe from the embers on the hearth. On the other hand, the major and I put a bold front on the business and defied him, not without some ground of law. In this state of matters he proposed I should go along with him to one Squire Merton, a great man of the neighborhood, who was in the commission of the peace, and the end of his avenue but three lanes away. I told him I would not stir a foot for him if it were to save his soul. Next he proposed that I should stay all night where I was, and the constable could see to my affair in the morning, when he was sober. I replied I should go when and where I pleased; that we were lawful travelers in the fear of God and the king, and I for one would suffer myself to be stayed by nobody. At the same time, I was thinking the matter had lasted altogether too long, and I determined to bring it to an end at once. "See here," said I, getting up, for till now I had remained carelessly seated, "there's only one way to decide a thing like this-only one way that's right English--and that's man to man. Take off your coat, sir, and these gentlemen shall see fair play. At this there came a look in his eye that I could not mistake. His education had been neglected in one essential and eminently British particular: he could not box. No more could I, you may say; but then I had the more impudence-and I had made the proposal. "He says I'm no Englishman, but the proof of the pudding is the eating of it," I continued. And here I stripped my coat and fell into the proper attitude, which was just about all I knew of this barbarian art. "Why, sir, you seem to me to hang back a little," said I. "Come, I'll meet you; I'll give you an appetizerthough hang me if I can understand the man that wants any enticement to hold up his hands." I drew a bank-note out of my fob and tossed it to the landlord. "There are the stakes," said I. "I'll fight you for first blood, since you seem to make so much work about it. If you tap my claret first, there are five guineas for you, and I'll go with you to any squire you choose to mention. If I tap yours, you'll perhaps let on that I'm the better man, and allow me to go about my lawful business at my own time and convenience. Is that fair, my lads?" says I, appealing to the company. "Ay, ay," said the chorus of chawbacons; "he can't say no fairer nor that, he can't. Take thy coat off, master!"' The limb of the law was now on the wrong side of public opinion, and, what heartened me to go on, the position was rapidly changing in our favor. Already the major was paying his shot to the very indifferent landlord, and I could see the white face of King at the back door, making signals of haste. "Oho!" quoth my enemy, "you are as full of doubles as a fox, are you not? But I see through you; I see through and through you. You would change the venue, would you?" "I may be transparent, sir," says I, "but if you'll do me the favor to stand up, you'll find I can hit pretty hard." Which is a point, if you will observe, that I have never called in question," said be. "Why, you ignorant clowns," he proceeded, addressing the company, can't you see the fellow is gulling you before your eyes? Can't you see that he's changed the point upon me? I say he's a French prisoner, and he answers that he can box! What has that to do with it? I would not wonder but what he can dance, too they're all dancing-masters over there. I say, and I stick to it, that he's a Frenchy. He says he isn't. Well, then, let him out with his papers, if he has them! If he had, would he not show them? If he had, would he not jump at the idea of going to Squire Merton, a man you all know? Now, you're all plain, straightforward Bedfordshire men, and I wouldn't ask a better lot to appeal to. You're not the kind to be talked over with any French gammon, and he's plenty of that. But let me tell him, he can take his pigs to another market; they'll never do here; they'll never go down in Bedfordshire. Why, look at the man! Look at his feet! Has anybody got a foot in the room like that? See how he stands! Do any of you fellows stand like that? Does the landlord, there? Why, he has Frenchman wrote all over him, as big as a signpost!" eloquence in a good school. In this predicament, I could think of nothing more ingenious than to burst out of the house, under the pretext of an ungovernable rage. It was certainly not very ingenious—it was elementary; but I had no choice. "You white-livered dog! I broke out. "Do you dare to tell me you're an Englishman, and won't fight? But I'll stand no more of this! I'll leave this place, where I've been insulted! Here! what's to pay? Pay yourself!" I went on, offering the landlord a handful of silver, "and give me back my bank-note!" He The landlord, following his usual policy of obliging everybody, offered no opposition to my design. The position of my adversary was now thoroughly bad. had lost my two companions. He was on the point of losing me also. There was plainly no hope of arousing the company to help; and, watching him with a corner of my eye, I saw him hesitate for a moment. The next he had taken down his hat and his wig, which was of black horsehair; and I saw him draw from behind the settle a vast hooded great-coat and a small valise. "Is the rascal," thought I, “going This was all very well; and in a different scene I might even have been gratified by his remarks; but I saw clearly, if I were to allow him to talk, he might turn the tables on me altogether. He might not be much of a hand at boxing; but I was much mistaken or he had studied forensic to follow me?" (To be continued.) ANDREW JACKSON AT HOME. REMINISCENCES BY HIS GRANDDAUGHTER LAWRENCE. I WAS near thirteen years of age when my grandfather died, and, having lived those years under his roof, our association was much closer than, and very different from, that common between grandfather and granddaughter. Apart from this, I was bound to him by the closer tie of being named for his beloved wife Rachel. General Jackson was warmly attached to many of his wife's relatives and connections. Having no children of his own, he legally adopted his wife's nephew, when only three days old, taking him to the Hermitage, and naming him Andrew Jack son, his son and heir. He ever felt for this son the most devoted attachment, and he was his only solace after the death of his wife. As a young man, twenty-one of years age, he accompanied his father to the White House in 1829, and in the fall of 1831 married Miss Sarah Yorke of Phila RACHEL JACKSON delphia, and brought her, a lovely bride, as a daughter to General Jackson, who welcomed her with the tenderest affection. With him there at the White House until the early spring of 1837, this son and daughter, with two grandchildren, Rachel and Andrew, constituted General Jackson's little family, and with him returned to the Hermitage at the close of his presidency. I remember the journey perfectly, although only five years of age. General Jackson and my mother occupied the back seat of the old family coach, and my father and the general's physician, Dr. Gwynn, were on the front seat. My brother and myself (the two grandchildren, Rachel and Andrew) were in a chartered stage-coach, with our colored nurses, faithful Gracie and Louisa, entrusted to the charge of Colonel Earl. Major W. B. Lewis and one or two other gentlemen, friends of |