of intercourse between myself and the
strangers, which gradually extended to books and music, and, lastly, to
civil messages and inquiries of which the general was ever the bearer.

What a boon was all this to me! What a sun-ray through the bars of
a prisoner's cell was this gleam of kindness and sympathy! The very
similarity of our pursuits, too, had something inexpressibly pleasing in
it, and I bestowed ten times as much pains upon each sketch, now that I
knew to whose eyes it would be submitted.

'Do you know, Tiernay,' said the general to me, one day, 'I am about to
incur a very heavy penalty in your behalf--I am going to contravene the
strict orders of the War Office, and take you along with me this evening
down to the village.'

I started with surprise and delight together, and could not utter a
word.

'I know perfectly well,' continued he, 'that you will not abuse my
confidence. I ask, then, for nothing beyond your word, that you will
not make any attempt at escape; for this visit may lead to others, and I
desire, so far as possible, that you should feel as little constraint as
a prisoner well may.'

I readily gave the pledge required, and he went on--'I have no cautions
to give you, nor any counsels--Madame d'Aigreville is a Royalist.'

'She is madame, then!' said I, in a voice of some disappointment.

'Yes, she is a widow, but her niece is unmarried,' said he, smiling
at my eagerness. I affected to hear the tidings with unconcern, but a
burning flush covered my cheek, and I felt as uncomfortable as possible.

I dined that day as usual with the general, adjourning after dinner to
the little drawing-room, where we played our chess. Never did he
appear to me so tedious in his stories, so intolerably tiresome in
his digressions, as that evening. He halted at every move--he had some
narrative to recount, or some observation to make, that delayed our
game to an enormous time; and at last, on looking out of the window, he
fancied there was a thunderstorm brewing, and that we should do well to
put off our visit to a more favourable opportunity.

'It is little short of half a league,' said he, 'to the village, and in
bad weather is worse than double the distance.'

I did not dare to controvert his opinion, but, fortunately, a gleam of
sunshine shot, the same moment, through the window, and proclaimed a
fair evening.

Heaven knows I had suffered little of a prisoner's durance--my life had
been one of compara