mbed faculties.

At last, a decided step was heard, and he saw standing by him a
vigorous, practical-looking Englishman, and a black-eyed, white-hooded
little Soeur de Charite. Captain Lonsdale, on hearing the calls for
surgical aid, had without a word, hurried out and secured the brisk
little Sister, who, with much gesticulation, took possession of the
arm, and pronounced it a mere trifle, which would have been nothing but
for the loss of blood, the ball having simply passed through the fleshy
part of the arm, avoiding the bone. Louis, pleased with this encounter
as a result of the adventure, was soon in condition to rise, though
with white cheeks and tottering step, and to present to Lady Conway her
new defender.

The sight of a bold, lively English soldier was a grand consolation,
even though he entirely destroyed all plans of escape by assuring her
that there was a tremendous disturbance in the direction of the
Northern Railway, and that the only safe place for ladies was just
where she was. He made various expeditions to procure intelligence,
and his tidings were cheerful enough to counteract the horrible stories
that Delaford was constantly bringing in, throughout that Saturday, the
dreadful 24th of June, 1848.

It was late before any one ventured to go to bed; and Louis, weak and
weary, had wakened many times from dreamy perceptions that some
wonderful discovery had been made, always fixing it upon Mary, and then
finding himself infinitely relieved by recollecting that it did not
regard her. He was in the full discomfort of the earlier stage of this
oft-repeated vision, when his door was pushed open, and Delaford's
trembling voice exclaimed, 'My Lord, I beg your pardon, the massacre is
beginning.'

'Let me know when it is over,' said Louis, nearly in his sleep.

Delaford reiterated that the city was bombarded, thousands of armed men
were marching on the hotel, and my Lady ought to be informed. A
distant cannonade, the trampling of many feet, and terrified voices on
the stairs, finally roused Louis, and hastily rising, he quitted his
room, and found all the ladies on the alert. Lady Conway was holding
back Virginia from the window, and by turns summoning Isabel to leave
it, and volubly entreating the master of the hotel to secure it with
feather-beds to defend them from the shot.

'Oh, Fitzjocelyn!' she screamed, 'tell him so--tell him to take us to
the cellars. Why will he not put the mattresses aga