Mr. Jos had hired a pair of horses for his open carriage, with whichcattle, and the smart London vehicle, he made a very tolerable figurein the drives about Brussels. George purchased a horse for his privateriding, and he and Captain Dobbin would often accompany the carriage inwhich Jos and his sister took daily excursions of pleasure. They wentout that day in the park for their accustomed diversion, and there,sure enough, George's remark with regard to the arrival of RawdonCrawley and his wife proved to be correct. In the midst of a littletroop of horsemen, consisting of some of the very greatest persons inBrussels, Rebecca was seen in the prettiest and tightest ofriding-habits, mounted on a beautiful little Arab, which she rode toperfection (having acquired the art at Queen's Crawley, where theBaronet, Mr. Pitt, and Rawdon himself had given her many lessons), andby the side of the gallant General Tufto.

"Sure it's the Juke himself," cried Mrs. Major O'Dowd to Jos, who beganto blush violently; "and that's Lord Uxbridge on the bay. How eleganthe looks! Me brother, Molloy Malony, is as like him as two pays."

Rebecca did not make for the carriage; but as soon as she perceived herold acquaintance Amelia seated in it, acknowledged her presence by agracious nod and smile, and by kissing and shaking her fingersplayfully in the direction of the vehicle. Then she resumed herconversation with General Tufto, who asked "who the fat officer was inthe gold-laced cap?" on which Becky replied, "that he was an officer inthe East Indian service." But Rawdon Crawley rode out of the ranks ofhis company, and came up and shook hands heartily with Amelia, and saidto Jos, "Well, old boy, how are you?" and stared in Mrs. O'Dowd's faceand at the black cock's feathers until she began to think she had madea conquest of him.

George, who had been delayed behind, rode up almost immediately withDobbin, and they touched their caps to the august personages, amongwhom Osborne at once perceived Mrs. Crawley. He was delighted to seeRawdon leaning over his carriage familiarly and talking to Amelia, andmet the aide-de-camp's cordial greeting with more than correspondingwarmth. The nods between Rawdon and Dobbin were of the very faintestspecimens of politeness.

Crawley told George where they were stopping with General Tufto at theHotel du Parc, and George made his friend promise to come speedily toOsborne's own residence. "Sorry I hadn't seen you three days ago,"George said. "Had a dinner at the Restaurateur's--rather a nice thing.Lord Bareacres, and the Countess, and Lady Blanche, were good enough todine with us--wish we'd had you." Having thus let his friend know hisclaims to be a man of fashion, Osborne parted from Rawdon, who followedthe august squadron down an alley into which they cantered, whileGeorge and Dobbin resumed their places, one on each side of Amelia'scarriage.

"How well the Juke looked," Mrs. O'Dowd remarked. "The Wellesleys andMalonys are related; but, of course, poor I would never dream ofintrojuicing myself unless his Grace thought proper to remember ourfamily-tie."

"He's a great soldier," Jos said, much more at ease now the great manwas gone. "Was there ever a battle won like Salamanca? Hey, Dobbin?But where was it he learnt his art? In India, my boy! The jungle'sthe school for a general, mark me that. I knew him myself, too, Mrs.O'Dowd: we both of us danced the same evening with Miss Cutler,daughter of Cutler of the Artillery, and a devilish fine girl, atDumdum."

The apparition of the great personages held them all in talk during thedrive; and at dinner; and until the hour came when they were all to goto the Opera.

It was almost like Old England. The house was filled with familiarBritish faces, and those toilettes for which the British female haslong been celebrated. Mrs. O'Dowd's was not the least splendid amongstthese, and she had a curl on her forehead, and a set of Irish diamondsand Cairngorms, which outshone all the decorations in the house, in hernotion. Her presence used to excruciate Osborne; but go she would uponall parties of pleasure on which she heard her young friends were bent.It never entered into her thought but that they must be charmed withher company.

"She's been useful to you, my dear," George said to his wife, whom hecould leave alone with less scruple when she had this society. "Butwhat a comfort it is that Rebecca's come: you will have her for afriend, and we may get rid now of this damn'd Irishwoman." To thisAmelia did not answer, yes or no: and how do we know what her thoughtswere?

The coup d'oeil of the Brussels opera-house did not strike Mrs. O'Dowdas being so fine as the theatre in Fishamble Street, Dublin, nor wasFrench music at all equal, in her opinion, to the melodies of hernative country. She favoured her friends with these and other opinionsin a very loud tone of voice, and tossed about a great clattering fanshe sported, with the most splendid complacency.

"Who is that wonderful woman with Amelia, Rawdon, love?" said a lady inan opposite box (who, almost always civil to her husband in private,was more fond than ever of him in company).

"Don't you see that creature with a yellow thing in her turban, and ared satin gown, and a great watch?"

"Near the pretty little woman in white?" asked a middle-aged gentlemanseated by the querist's side, with orders in his button, and severalunder-waistcoats, and a great, choky, white stock.

"That pretty woman in white is Amelia, General: you are remarking allthe pretty women, you naughty man."

"Only one, begad, in the world!" said the General, delighted, and thelady gave him a tap with a large bouquet which she had.

"Bedad it's him," said Mrs. O'Dowd; "and that's the very bokay hebought in the Marshy aux Flures!" and when Rebecca, having caught herfriend's eye, performed the little hand-kissing operation once more,Mrs. Major O'D., taking the compliment to herself, returned the salutewith a gracious smile, which sent that unfortunate Dobbin shrieking outof the box again.

At the end of the act, George was out of the box in a moment, and hewas even going to pay his respects to Rebecca in her loge. He metCrawley in the lobby, however, where they exchanged a few sentencesupon the occurrences of the last fortnight.

"You found my cheque all right at the agent's? George said, with aknowing air.

"All right, my boy," Rawdon answered. "Happy to give you your revenge.Governor come round?"

"Not yet," said George, "but he will; and you know I've some privatefortune through my mother. Has Aunty relented?"

"Sent me twenty pound, damned old screw. When shall we have a meet?The General dines out on Tuesday. Can't you come Tuesday? I say, makeSedley cut off his moustache. What the devil does a civilian mean witha moustache and those infernal frogs to his coat! By-bye. Try and comeon Tuesday"; and Rawdon was going-off with two brilliant younggentlemen of fashion, who were, like himself, on the staff of a generalofficer.

George was only half pleased to be asked to dinner on that particularday when the General was not to dine. "I will go in and pay myrespects to your wife," said he; at which Rawdon said, "Hm, as youplease," looking very glum, and at which the two young officersexchanged knowing glances. George parted from them and strutted downthe lobby to the General's box, the number of which he had carefullycounted.

"Entrez," said a clear little voice, and our friend found himself inRebecca's presence; who jumped up, clapped her hands together, and heldout both of them to George, so charmed was she to see him. TheGeneral, with the orders in his button, stared at the newcomer with asulky scowl, as much as to say, who the devil are you?

"My dear Captain George!" cried little Rebecca in an ecstasy. "Howgood of you to come. The General and I were moping together tete-a-tete.General, this is my Captain George of whom you heard me talk."

"Indeed," said the General, with a very small bow; "of what regiment isCaptain George?"

George mentioned the --th: how he wished he could have said it was acrack cavalry corps.

"Come home lately from the West Indies, I believe. Not seen muchservice in the late war. Quartered here, Captain George?"--the Generalwent on with killing haughtiness.

"Not Captain George, you stupid man; Captain Osborne," Rebecca said.The General all the while was looking savagely from one to the other.

"Captain Osborne, indeed! Any relation to the L------ Osbornes?"

"We bear the same arms," George said, as indeed was the fact; Mr.Osborne having consulted with a herald in Long Acre, and picked theL------ arms out of the peerage, when he set up his carriage fifteenyears before. The General made no reply to this announcement; but tookup his opera-glass--the double-barrelled lorgnon was not invented inthose days--and pretended to examine the house; but Rebecca saw thathis disengaged eye was working round in her direction, and shooting outbloodshot glances at her and George.

She redoubled in cordiality. "How is dearest Amelia? But I needn'task: how pretty she looks! And who is that nice good-natured lookingcreature with her--a flame of yours? O, you wicked men! And there isMr. Sedley eating ice, I declare: how he seems to enjoy it! General,why have we not had any ices?"

"Shall I go and fetch you some?" said the General, bursting with wrath.

"Let ME go, I entreat you," George said.

"No, I will go to Amelia's box. Dear, sweet girl! Give me your arm,Captain George"; and so saying, and with a nod to the General, shetripped into the lobby. She gave George the queerest, knowingest look,when they were together, a look which might have been interpreted,"Don't you see the state of affairs, and what a fool I'm making ofhim?" But he did not perceive it. He was thinking of his own plans,and lost in pompous admiration of his own irresistible powers ofpleasing.

The curses to which the General gave a low utterance, as soon asRebecca and her conqueror had quitted him, were so deep, that I am sureno compositor would venture to print them were they written down. Theycame from the General's heart; and a wonderful thing it is to thinkthat the human heart is capable of generating such produce, and canthrow out, as occasion demands, such a supply of lust and fury, rageand hatred.

Amelia's gentle eyes, too, had been fixed anxiously on the pair, whoseconduct had so chafed the jealous General; but when Rebecca entered herbox, she flew to her friend with an affectionate rapture which showeditself, in spite of the publicity of the place; for she embraced herdearest friend in the presence of the whole house, at least in fullview of the General's glass, now brought to bear upon the Osborneparty. Mrs. Rawdon saluted Jos, too, with the kindliest greeting: sheadmired Mrs. O'Dowd's large Cairngorm brooch and superb Irish diamonds,and wouldn't believe that they were not from Golconda direct. Shebustled, she chattered, she turned and twisted, and smiled upon one,and smirked on another, all in full view of the jealous opera-glassopposite. And when the time for the ballet came (in which there was nodancer that went through her grimaces or performed her comedy of actionbetter), she skipped back to her own box, leaning on Captain Dobbin'sarm this time. No, she would not have George's: he must stay and talkto his dearest, best, little Amelia.

"What a humbug that woman is!" honest old Dobbin mumbled to George,when he came back from Rebecca's box, whither he had conducted her inperfect silence, and with a countenance as glum as an undertaker's."She writhes and twists about like a snake. All the time she was here,didn't you see, George, how she was acting at the General over the way?"

"Humbug--acting! Hang it, she's the nicest little woman in England,"George replied, showing his white teeth, and giving his ambrosialwhiskers a twirl. "You ain't a man of the world, Dobbin. Dammy, lookat her now, she's talked over Tufto in no time. Look how he'slaughing! Gad, what a shoulder she has! Emmy, why didn't you have abouquet? Everybody has a bouquet."

"Faith, then, why didn't you BOY one?" Mrs. O'Dowd said; and bothAmelia and William Dobbin thanked her for this timely observation. Butbeyond this neither of the ladies rallied. Amelia was overpowered bythe flash and the dazzle and the fashionable talk of her worldly rival.Even the O'Dowd was silent and subdued after Becky's brilliantapparition, and scarcely said a word more about Glenmalony all theevening.

"When do you intend to give up play, George, as you have promised me,any time these hundred years?" Dobbin said to his friend a few daysafter the night at the Opera. "When do you intend to give upsermonising?" was the other's reply. "What the deuce, man, are youalarmed about? We play low; I won last night. You don't supposeCrawley cheats? With fair play it comes to pretty much the same thingat the year's end."

"But I don't think he could pay if he lost," Dobbin said; and hisadvice met with the success which advice usually commands. Osborne andCrawley were repeatedly together now. General Tufto dined abroadalmost constantly. George was always welcome in the apartments (veryclose indeed to those of the General) which the aide-de-camp and hiswife occupied in the hotel.

Amelia's manners were such when she and George visited Crawley and hiswife at these quarters, that they had very nearly come to their firstquarrel; that is, George scolded his wife violently for her evidentunwillingness to go, and the high and mighty manner in which shecomported herself towards Mrs. Crawley, her old friend; and Amelia didnot say one single word in reply; but with her husband's eye upon her,and Rebecca scanning her as she felt, was, if possible, more bashfuland awkward on the second visit which she paid to Mrs. Rawdon, than onher first call.

Rebecca was doubly affectionate, of course, and would not take notice,in the least, of her friend's coolness. "I think Emmy has becomeprouder since her father's name was in the--since Mr. Sedley'sMISFORTUNES," Rebecca said, softening the phrase charitably forGeorge's ear.

"Upon my word, I thought when we were at Brighton she was doing me thehonour to be jealous of me; and now I suppose she is scandalisedbecause Rawdon, and I, and the General live together. Why, my dearcreature, how could we, with our means, live at all, but for a friendto share expenses? And do you suppose that Rawdon is not big enough totake care of my honour? But I'm very much obliged to Emmy, very," Mrs.Rawdon said.

"Pooh, jealousy!" answered George, "all women are jealous."

"And all men too. Weren't you jealous of General Tufto, and theGeneral of you, on the night of the Opera? Why, he was ready to eat mefor going with you to visit that foolish little wife of yours; as if Icare a pin for either of you," Crawley's wife said, with a pert toss ofher head. "Will you dine here? The dragon dines with theCommander-in-Chief. Great news is stirring. They say the French havecrossed the frontier. We shall have a quiet dinner."

George accepted the invitation, although his wife was a little ailing.They were now not quite six weeks married. Another woman was laughingor sneering at her expense, and he not angry. He was not even angrywith himself, this good-natured fellow. It is a shame, he owned tohimself; but hang it, if a pretty woman WILL throw herself in your way,why, what can a fellow do, you know? I AM rather free about women, hehad often said, smiling and nodding knowingly to Stubble and Spooney,and other comrades of the mess-table; and they rather respected himthan otherwise for this prowess. Next to conquering in war, conqueringin love has been a source of pride, time out of mind, amongst men inVanity Fair, or how should schoolboys brag of their amours, or Don Juanbe popular?

So Mr. Osborne, having a firm conviction in his own mind that he was awoman-killer and destined to conquer, did not run counter to his fate,but yielded himself up to it quite complacently. And as Emmy did notsay much or plague him with her jealousy, but merely became unhappy andpined over it miserably in secret, he chose to fancy that she was notsuspicious of what all his acquaintance were perfectly aware--namely,that he was carrying on a desperate flirtation with Mrs. Crawley. Herode with her whenever she was free. He pretended regimental businessto Amelia (by which falsehood she was not in the least deceived), andconsigning his wife to solitude or her brother's society, passed hisevenings in the Crawleys' company; losing money to the husband andflattering himself that the wife was dying of love for him. It is verylikely that this worthy couple never absolutely conspired and agreedtogether in so many words: the one to cajole the young gentleman,whilst the other won his money at cards: but they understood each otherperfectly well, and Rawdon let Osborne come and go with entire goodhumour.

George was so occupied with his new acquaintances that he and WilliamDobbin were by no means so much together as formerly. George avoidedhim in public and in the regiment, and, as we see, did not like thosesermons which his senior was disposed to inflict upon him. If someparts of his conduct made Captain Dobbin exceedingly grave and cool; ofwhat use was it to tell George that, though his whiskers were large,and his own opinion of his knowingness great, he was as green as aschoolboy? that Rawdon was making a victim of him as he had done ofmany before, and as soon as he had used him would fling him off withscorn? He would not listen: and so, as Dobbin, upon those days whenhe visited the Osborne house, seldom had the advantage of meeting hisold friend, much painful and unavailing talk between them was spared.Our friend George was in the full career of the pleasures of VanityFair.

There never was, since the days of Darius, such a brilliant train ofcamp-followers as hung round the Duke of Wellington's army in the LowCountries, in 1815; and led it dancing and feasting, as it were, up tothe very brink of battle. A certain ball which a noble Duchess gave atBrussels on the 15th of June in the above-named year is historical.All Brussels had been in a state of excitement about it, and I haveheard from ladies who were in that town at the period, that the talkand interest of persons of their own sex regarding the ball was muchgreater even than in respect of the enemy in their front. Thestruggles, intrigues, and prayers to get tickets were such as onlyEnglish ladies will employ, in order to gain admission to the societyof the great of their own nation.

Jos and Mrs. O'Dowd, who were panting to be asked, strove in vain toprocure tickets; but others of our friends were more lucky. Forinstance, through the interest of my Lord Bareacres, and as a set-offfor the dinner at the restaurateur's, George got a card for Captain andMrs. Osborne; which circumstance greatly elated him. Dobbin, who was afriend of the General commanding the division in which their regimentwas, came laughing one day to Mrs. Osborne, and displayed a similarinvitation, which made Jos envious, and George wonder how the deuce heshould be getting into society. Mr. and Mrs. Rawdon, finally, were ofcourse invited; as became the friends of a General commanding a cavalrybrigade.

On the appointed night, George, having commanded new dresses andornaments of all sorts for Amelia, drove to the famous ball, where hiswife did not know a single soul. After looking about for LadyBareacres, who cut him, thinking the card was quite enough--and afterplacing Amelia on a bench, he left her to her own cogitations there,thinking, on his own part, that he had behaved very handsomely ingetting her new clothes, and bringing her to the ball, where she wasfree to amuse herself as she liked. Her thoughts were not of thepleasantest, and nobody except honest Dobbin came to disturb them.

Whilst her appearance was an utter failure (as her husband felt with asort of rage), Mrs. Rawdon Crawley's debut was, on the contrary, verybrilliant. She arrived very late. Her face was radiant; her dressperfection. In the midst of the great persons assembled, and theeye-glasses directed to her, Rebecca seemed to be as cool and collectedas when she used to marshal Miss Pinkerton's little girls to church.Numbers of the men she knew already, and the dandies thronged roundher. As for the ladies, it was whispered among them that Rawdon hadrun away with her from out of a convent, and that she was a relation ofthe Montmorency family. She spoke French so perfectly that there mightbe some truth in this report, and it was agreed that her manners werefine, and her air distingue. Fifty would-be partners thronged roundher at once, and pressed to have the honour to dance with her. But shesaid she was engaged, and only going to dance very little; and made herway at once to the place where Emmy sate quite unnoticed, and dismallyunhappy. And so, to finish the poor child at once, Mrs. Rawdon ran andgreeted affectionately her dearest Amelia, and began forthwith topatronise her. She found fault with her friend's dress, and herhairdresser, and wondered how she could be so chaussee, and vowed thatshe must send her corsetiere the next morning. She vowed that it was adelightful ball; that there was everybody that every one knew, and onlya VERY few nobodies in the whole room. It is a fact, that in afortnight, and after three dinners in general society, this young womanhad got up the genteel jargon so well, that a native could not speak itbetter; and it was only from her French being so good, that you couldknow she was not a born woman of fashion.

George, who had left Emmy on her bench on entering the ball-room, verysoon found his way back when Rebecca was by her dear friend's side.Becky was just lecturing Mrs. Osborne upon the follies which herhusband was committing. "For God's sake, stop him from gambling, mydear," she said, "or he will ruin himself. He and Rawdon are playing atcards every night, and you know he is very poor, and Rawdon will winevery shilling from him if he does not take care. Why don't youprevent him, you little careless creature? Why don't you come to us ofan evening, instead of moping at home with that Captain Dobbin? I daresay he is tres aimable; but how could one love a man with feet of suchsize? Your husband's feet are darlings--Here he comes. Where have youbeen, wretch? Here is Emmy crying her eyes out for you. Are youcoming to fetch me for the quadrille?" And she left her bouquet andshawl by Amelia's side, and tripped off with George to dance. Womenonly know how to wound so. There is a poison on the tips of theirlittle shafts, which stings a thousand times more than a man's blunterweapon. Our poor Emmy, who had never hated, never sneered all herlife, was powerless in the hands of her remorseless little enemy.

George danced with Rebecca twice or thrice--how many times Ameliascarcely knew. She sat quite unnoticed in her corner, except whenRawdon came up with some words of clumsy conversation: and later inthe evening, when Captain Dobbin made so bold as to bring herrefreshments and sit beside her. He did not like to ask her why shewas so sad; but as a pretext for the tears which were filling in hereyes, she told him that Mrs. Crawley had alarmed her by telling herthat George would go on playing.

"It is curious, when a man is bent upon play, by what clumsy rogues hewill allow himself to be cheated," Dobbin said; and Emmy said,"Indeed." She was thinking of something else. It was not the loss ofthe money that grieved her.

At last George came back for Rebecca's shawl and flowers. She wasgoing away. She did not even condescend to come back and say good-byeto Amelia. The poor girl let her husband come and go without saying aword, and her head fell on her breast. Dobbin had been called away,and was whispering deep in conversation with the General of thedivision, his friend, and had not seen this last parting. George wentaway then with the bouquet; but when he gave it to the owner, there laya note, coiled like a snake among the flowers. Rebecca's eye caught itat once. She had been used to deal with notes in early life. She putout her hand and took the nosegay. He saw by her eyes as they met,that she was aware what she should find there. Her husband hurried heraway, still too intent upon his own thoughts, seemingly, to take noteof any marks of recognition which might pass between his friend and hiswife. These were, however, but trifling. Rebecca gave George her handwith one of her usual quick knowing glances, and made a curtsey andwalked away. George bowed over the hand, said nothing in reply to aremark of Crawley's, did not hear it even, his brain was so throbbingwith triumph and excitement, and allowed them to go away without a word.

His wife saw the one part at least of the bouquet-scene. It was quitenatural that George should come at Rebecca's request to get her herscarf and flowers: it was no more than he had done twenty times beforein the course of the last few days; but now it was too much for her."William," she said, suddenly clinging to Dobbin, who was near her,"you've always been very kind to me--I'm--I'm not well. Take me home."She did not know she called him by his Christian name, as George wasaccustomed to do. He went away with her quickly. Her lodgings werehard by; and they threaded through the crowd without, where everythingseemed to be more astir than even in the ball-room within.

George had been angry twice or thrice at finding his wife up on hisreturn from the parties which he frequented: so she went straight tobed now; but although she did not sleep, and although the din andclatter, and the galloping of horsemen were incessant, she never heardany of these noises, having quite other disturbances to keep her awake.

Osborne meanwhile, wild with elation, went off to a play-table, andbegan to bet frantically. He won repeatedly. "Everything succeeds withme to-night," he said. But his luck at play even did not cure him ofhis restlessness, and he started up after awhile, pocketing hiswinnings, and went to a buffet, where he drank off many bumpers of wine.

Here, as he was rattling away to the people around, laughing loudly andwild with spirits, Dobbin found him. He had been to the card-tables tolook there for his friend. Dobbin looked as pale and grave as hiscomrade was flushed and jovial.

"Hullo, Dob! Come and drink, old Dob! The Duke's wine is famous. Giveme some more, you sir"; and he held out a trembling glass for theliquor.

"Come out, George," said Dobbin, still gravely; "don't drink."

"Drink! there's nothing like it. Drink yourself, and light up yourlantern jaws, old boy. Here's to you."

Dobbin went up and whispered something to him, at which George, givinga start and a wild hurray, tossed off his glass, clapped it on thetable, and walked away speedily on his friend's arm. "The enemy haspassed the Sambre," William said, "and our left is already engaged.Come away. We are to march in three hours."

Away went George, his nerves quivering with excitement at the news solong looked for, so sudden when it came. What were love and intriguenow? He thought about a thousand things but these in his rapid walk tohis quarters--his past life and future chances--the fate which might bebefore him--the wife, the child perhaps, from whom unseen he might beabout to part. Oh, how he wished that night's work undone! and thatwith a clear conscience at least he might say farewell to the tenderand guileless being by whose love he had set such little store!

He thought over his brief married life. In those few weeks he hadfrightfully dissipated his little capital. How wild and reckless hehad been! Should any mischance befall him: what was then left forher? How unworthy he was of her. Why had he married her? He was notfit for marriage. Why had he disobeyed his father, who had been alwaysso generous to him? Hope, remorse, ambition, tenderness, and selfishregret filled his heart. He sate down and wrote to his father,remembering what he had said once before, when he was engaged to fighta duel. Dawn faintly streaked the sky as he closed this farewellletter. He sealed it, and kissed the superscription. He thought how hehad deserted that generous father, and of the thousand kindnesses whichthe stern old man had done him.

He had looked into Amelia's bedroom when he entered; she lay quiet, andher eyes seemed closed, and he was glad that she was asleep. Onarriving at his quarters from the ball, he had found his regimentalservant already making preparations for his departure: the man hadunderstood his signal to be still, and these arrangements were veryquickly and silently made. Should he go in and wake Amelia, hethought, or leave a note for her brother to break the news of departureto her? He went in to look at her once again.

She had been awake when he first entered her room, but had kept hereyes closed, so that even her wakefulness should not seem to reproachhim. But when he had returned, so soon after herself, too, this timidlittle heart had felt more at ease, and turning towards him as he steptsoftly out of the room, she had fallen into a light sleep. George camein and looked at her again, entering still more softly. By the palenight-lamp he could see her sweet, pale face--the purple eyelids werefringed and closed, and one round arm, smooth and white, lay outside ofthe coverlet. Good God! how pure she was; how gentle, how tender, andhow friendless! and he, how selfish, brutal, and black with crime!Heart-stained, and shame-stricken, he stood at the bed's foot, andlooked at the sleeping girl. How dared he--who was he, to pray for oneso spotless! God bless her! God bless her! He came to the bedside,and looked at the hand, the little soft hand, lying asleep; and he bentover the pillow noiselessly towards the gentle pale face.

Two fair arms closed tenderly round his neck as he stooped down. "I amawake, George," the poor child said, with a sob fit to break the littleheart that nestled so closely by his own. She was awake, poor soul,and to what? At that moment a bugle from the Place of Arms begansounding clearly, and was taken up through the town; and amidst thedrums of the infantry, and the shrill pipes of the Scotch, the wholecity awoke.