ering fit of passion, he dragged me forward to the light. I was now
standing close to the table; the lady raised her eyes towards me, and
at once broke out into a burst of laughter--such hearty, merry laughter,
that, even with the fear of death before me, I could almost have joined
in it.

'What is it--what do you mean, Laure?' cried the colonel angrily.

'Don't you see it?' said she, still holding her kerchief to her
face--'can't you perceive it yourself? He has only one moustache!'

I turned hastily towards the mirror beside me, and there was the fatal
fact revealed--one gallant curl disported proudly over the left cheek,
while the other was left bare.

'Is the fellow mad--a mountebank?' said the colonel, whose anger was now
at its white heat.

'Neither, sir,' said I, tearing off my remaining moustache, in shame
and passion together. 'Among my other misfortunes I have that of being
young; and what's worse, I was ashamed of it; but I begin to see my
error, and know that a man may be old without gaining either in dignity
or temper.'

With a stroke of his closed fist upon the table, the colonel made every
glass and decanter spring from their places, while he uttered an oath
that was only current in the days of that army. 'This is beyond belief,'
cried he. 'Come, _gredin_, you have at least had one piece of good
fortune: you've fallen precisely into the hands of one who can deal with
you.--Your regiment?'

'The Ninth Hussars.'

'Your name?'

'Tiernay.'

'Tiernay; that's not a French name?'

'Not originally; we were Irish once.'

'Irish,' said he, in a different tone from what he had hitherto used.
'Any relative of a certain Comte Maurice de Tiernay, who once served in
the Royal Guard?'

'His son, sir.'

'What--his son! Art certain of this, lad? You remember your mother's
name then--what was it?'

'I never knew which was my mother,' said I. 'Mademoiselle de la Lasterie
or----'

He did not suffer me to finish, but throwing his arms around my neck,
pressed me to his bosom.

'You are little Maurice, then,' said he, 'the son of my old and valued
comrade! Only think of it, Laure--I was that boy's godfather.'

Here was a sudden change in my fortunes; nor was it without a great
effort that I could credit the reality of it, as I saw myself seated
between the colonel and his fair companion, both of whom overwhelmed me
with attention.

It turned out that Colonel Mahon had been a fellow-guardsman with my
f