gallantly.

'What hast in the _tonnslet_, Lela?' continued he, tapping the little
silver-hooped barrel she carried at her back.

'_Ah, que voulez-vous?_ cried she laughing, with a low, husky sound, the
laugh of famine.

'I must have a glass of it to your health, _ma belle_ Lela, if it cost
me a crown-piece'; and he drew forth the coin as he spoke.

'For such a toast, the liquor is quite good enough,' said Lela, drawing
back at the offer of money; while slinging the little cask in front, she
unhooked a small silver cup, and filled it with water.

'No brandy, Lela?'

'None, colonel,' said she, shaking her head; 'and if I had, those poor
fellows yonder would not like it so well.'

'I understand,' said he significantly; 'theirs is the thirst of fever.'

A short, dry cough, and a barely perceptible nod of the head, was all
her reply; but their eyes met, and any so sad an expression as they
interchanged I never beheld! it was a confession in full of all each had
seen of sorrow, of suffering, and of death--the terrible events three
months of famine had revealed, and all the agonies of pestilence and
madness.

'That is delicious water, Tiernay,' said the colonel, as he passed me
the cup, and thus trying to get away from the sad theme of his thoughts.

'I fetch it from a well outside the walls every morning,' said Lela;
'ay, and within gunshot of the Austrian sentries, too.'

'There's coolness for you, Tiernay,' said the colonel; 'think what the
22nd are made of when their vivandiere dares to do this!'

'They'll not astonish him,' said Lela, looking steadily at me

'And why not, _ma belle?_' cried De Barre. 'He was a Tapageur, one of
the "Naughty Ninth," as they called them.'

'How do you know that, Lela? Have we ever met before?' cried I eagerly.

'I've seen you, sir,' said she slyly. 'They used to call you the
corporal that won the battle of Kehl. I know my father always said so.'

I would have given worlds to have interrogated her further; so
fascinating is selfishness, that already at least a hundred questions
were presenting themselves to my mind. Who could Lela be? and who was
her father? and what were these reports about me? Had I really won fame
without knowing it? and did my comrades indeed speak of me with honour?
All these, and many more inquiries, were pressing for utterance, as
General Massena walked up with his staff. The general fully corroborated
De Barre's opinion of the '22nd.' They were, as