Theatre, where Law, who had never seen Mrs. Oldfield, was charmed with her grace and beauty, as well as with her admirable acting. At the close of the performances, as he handed Belinda to her carriage, she told him that she hoped to see a great deal of him during his stay in town, to which he could not fail to make a suitable answer-and was about to add a few words of rather more passionate import, when he caught Lady Kate's eye fixed somewhat reproachfully upon him-and desisted. The old beau, however, cordially seconded his wife's invitation, and Law had to repeat his expressions of obligation. Before getting into the carriage, Wilson inquired in an under tone at what hour of the morning he had appointed the meeting, and being informed, said he would be ready.

The coach then drove away, and as Law proceeded to the Hummums, he felt that the enchantress, to whose fascinations he had been subjected, had cast a spell over him so potent that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to shake it off. He could not banish her image from his thoughts, and it haunted him in his dreams.

V.

THE DUEL IN HYDE PARK.

NEXT morning Law arose before seven, and as soon as he had completed his toilette, he bade his valet bring him his mantle and a couple of swords, which done, he sallied forth with the swords under his cloak, called a coach, and drove to Berkeleysquare. Sir Harry having promised that a surgeon should be in attendance on the field, he did not give himself any concern on that score.

On arriving at Mr. Wilson's habitation, he found the old beau waiting for him, and they proceeded together to Hyde Park. On the way they talked together of indifferent matters, as if both were anxious to avoid allusion to the business on hand, but at last Law remarked,

If

"I hope you have kept your hand in practice, Mr. Wilson. So, I shall have no doubt as to the result of the encounter."

"I have not been at a fencing-school, or handled a foil in private, for several years," replied Beau Wilson; "but I have not forgotten how to use a sword, as Charles Carrington shall find. I have fought several duels, and had determined not to fight another, but this has been forced upon me. If I did not punish this impertinent coxcomb, I should be subject to like annoyance from his friends. I am too much a man of the world, Mr. Law, not to be aware that I am ridiculed—justly ridiculed, perhaps for marrying a young wife of great personal attractions, like Belinda. But the ridicule does not disturb me. Were I forty

years younger I could not be more passionately in love with my wife than I am at sixty-five, and though the assertion may savour of vanity, I believe she loves me in return.

At the time when I was page to my royal master, Charles the Second, old Sir John Denham, the poet, who had laughed at marriage all his life, became desperately enamoured of a lovely young creature, and wedded her. Everybody laughed at him, and I among the rest, and we all thought the beautiful Lady Denham fair game, and sought an opportunity of making love to her. Whether she really favoured any one I can't pretend to say, but Sir John thought so, and terribly avenged the supposed injury to his

honour."

"He poisoned his wife, I believe," remarked Law.

"He did; and I would do likewise, were I wronged in the same manner," rejoined Wilson, sternly. "I blamed Sir John Denham then, but I don't blame him now. I know what jealousy is."

"'Sdeath! sir," cried Law, alarmed at the serious tone in which the old beau spoke, "you don't entertain any suspicions of your wife? If so, for Heaven's sake cast them off, as I am quite sure they must be groundless."

"I entertain no suspicion, sir," said Wilson, moodily. "If I did" And his countenance grew dark, and he became silent.

Law made no attempt to continue the conversation. A feeling of horror almost struck him dumb, and nothing more passed between them till they reached the entrance to Hyde Park, where they alighted, and set out in the direction of the place of ren

dezvous.

The old beau's lameness caused them to proceed very slowly. The morning was beautiful, all nature seeming to rejoice in the bright sunshine. A herd of deer were couched near the of group trees towards which they were steering, and some cattle were quietly grazing at a little distance.

The emotions inspired by the contemplation of this peaceful scene made the errand on which they were engaged appear peculiarly distasteful to Law, but he gave no utterance to his sentiments.

"How charming the park is at this early hour," observed the old beau, "and how fresh and exhilarating the air feels! It quite renovates my youth. I shall come here often of a morningbut no! I cannot. We keep such abominably late hours-plays, drums, ridottos, masked balls, and the devil knows what besides! -night after night-night after night."

"Your young wife must be amused, sir," said Law. "But we shall be first on the field. Those deer would not be lying yonder if any one were near."

"True," replied Wilson, "but we are not quite there yet. I must halt for a moment. My leg pains me excessively."

While they were thus pausing, Law noticed three persons coming from the Kensington side of the Park, and pointed them out to the old beau, who said,

"Ay, there they are. But they must wait for me, or come on here, for I've fallen dead lame, and scarce think I can move a step farther. Lend me your arm, sir, and I'll try to hobble on."

With Law's assistance, the old beau limped slowly on, but he was obliged to stop every fifty yards, and long before he reached the trees, the deer had been roused, and their places occupied by Carrington and his second-the person with them being the

surgeon.

As Mr. Wilson approached, his opponent advanced to meet him, and after a cold and formal salutation had been exchanged between them, retired, and prepared for the combat, while the old beau, with Law's aid, proceeded to divest himself of his velvet coat, waistcoat, and laced cravat.

The sight of his adversary appeared to have restored the old man to his pristine vigour. His eye blazed, his lameness forsook him, and he stood more erect than he had done for years. Law, who had begun to have some misgivings concerning him, was astounded at the sudden change, and conceived better hopes.

Meanwhile, the swords having been measured by the seconds, a weapon was delivered to each combatant, who proceeded to try the blade. Satisfied with the essay, they approached each other, saluted, and the old beau beat the appeal with as firm a foot as his young antagonist. In another moment they were engaged.

The conflict was of brief duration, but sufficiently long to show that, though Carrington was a skilful and active swordsman, he was no match for so wary an antagonist as Beau Wilson, who, moreover, displayed a quickness and precision that could scarcely have been expected from his years. The old man dexterously parried every thrust made at him, and after a lounge in carte over the arm, returned in seconde with such rapidity and force, that his point pierced his adversary's right side, inflicting a severe though not dangerous wound.

"I think you have had enough, sir," said Beau Wilson, as the blood poured down Carrington's breast, and the sword dropped from his grasp.

At the same time the seconds and the surgeon rushed to the wounded man's assistance.

464

AN OLD SOLDIER'S STORY.

ON a bright September day, in the year 1811, the inhabitants of Dantzig, more especially the fashionable part, were in a state of great excitement, and early in the morning all the windows in the houses on the Langenmarkt were occupied by spectators, principally ladies, up to the garrets. The reason of this excitement was very remarkable; a French officer belonging to the garrison, and a knight of the Legion of Honour, was about to be publicly branded as a thief in the presence of the troops.

The unhappy gentleman was universally popular. No party, either civil or military, was arranged without his advice, and the fashionable routs were hopeless without his presence. In the public carnival processions he distributed the characters among the members of the garrison, and everybody willingly followed his arrangements. To this must be added that he spoke German fluently, sang merry songs to the guitar, played various tricks to amuse the company, danced gracefully, and frequently took part in the sports of the children. He was a handsome man of some forty years of age, and had acquired the respect of the higher classes by always behaving in a very quiet way in company, never appearing where he was not invited.

Captain Alswanger had been lodging for some time with a dealer in fancy goods, whose business had greatly fallen off, and, so to speak, had gone out of fashion. Hence the proprietor had no assistant, but in his sales often requested the captain to act as his interpreter.

After a while, some inhabitants having complained about having troops quartered on them, a change took place, and the captain was ordered to remove to other lodgings, for which both his landlord and his family were very sorry. They took leave of their friend with tears in their eyes.

Shortly after his departure the shopkeeper missed a signet ring, nearly the most valuable article he possessed. It was impossible to account for its disappearance, as it was always kept in a glass-case with other gold articles, and as no stranger, not even the servant-maid, entered the shop, the loss of the article seemed extraordinary. Any suspicion of the captain was repulsed with horror by the family, and at last, as no trace was to be found of the ring, they put up with its loss.

Some months after this occurrence the tradesman went on a Sunday morning to see the guard mounting on the market-place; here he met an acquaintance, on whose finger he noticed the missing ring.

"Where did you get that ring from?" he asked, eagerly; adding, "it was stolen from me."

The other carelessly answered, "I bought it of a French officer for five dollars."

"What do you say?"

With this question an officer, who understood German, walked up to the two men, who tried to withdraw in a state of great alarm. An imperious "Halt!" however, rooted them to the spot. Producing a pocketbook, the Frenchman asked their name, calling, and dwelling-place,

which he noted down, stating that the charge must be more fully gone into. He also asked the present owner of the ring whether he knew the officer. On his replying in the negative, he was requested to describe his appearance; but he had scarce uttered a few words ere the robbed man exclaimed, in horror, "Why, it is Captain Alswanger!" The examiner gave such a violent start that it took some time ere he recovered, and at length asked, in a trembling voice, "Do you persist in your statement ?" And as both answered resolutely "Yes," he forbade them leaving the spot, under disagreeable consequences if they did so. The two men were extremely sorry that the matter had so soon attained publicity, and would much sooner have settled it quietly; but it was too late, the people standing round them had overheard the conversation, and were pressing round the two tradesmen in order to wait for the further dénouement of the drama.

A field-officer, accompanied by the accuser and the captain, who had been called up, found some difficulty in making their way through the crowd. "Do you know these persons ?" he asked the captain. The surprise was so sudden that he turned pale, lost his self-possession, and stammered a hardly audible "Yes." The colonel requested the ring to be handed to him, and asked, "Did you sell this ring to this person ?" And as the accused, after a great effort, replied in the affirmative, the colonel continued, "Where did you get it from?" He answered, somewhat more calmly, that he had received it as a present from his married sister, who was staying in Paris at the time. What have you to say to this?" the robbed man was asked. The latter turned to the captain with the question: "Do you know the secret of the ring?" He looked at him in some alarm, and slowly replied "No."

"In that case, M. le Colonel, I will prove to you that the ring was formerly my property, and impart the secret to you."

The two walked to a more open spot, when the owner pressed with a penknife one of the small knobs that surrounded the stone: a small plate sprang out from the inside, and a hollow was visible under the stone, in which a small piece of paper or poison might be concealed. The colonel silently looked at the ring, slowly pressed the plate back into its place, and stood for some time in deep thought. Then he returned to the two officers, and said, with evident emotion, "Follow me."

The colonel made his report to the general commanding, who ordered four non-commissioned officers to take the captain to the rear. At this moment Governor Rapp, pleasant as usual, cantered up with his brilliant suite, rode down the line, placed himself in front of it, and gave the townmajor orders to carry out the prescribed manoeuvres. The commanding officer, however, had not shouted the word "March!" when the governor was informed of what had occurred. In a great passion he ordered the general who made the report to at once proceed to the preliminary examination, and to inform him of the result. On being asked whether the captain under arrest should be brought up, he declined it with a wave of his hand and with averted face. Without waiting for the customary marching past, he galloped off on his barb at such a pace that his suite were hardly able to keep up with him.

On the departure of the troops, the officers warned for the duty assembled in a room of the town-hall, and the court of inquiry was formed.