heology, one day of fishing, and one of
hunting, that's three already. You see, my dear fellow, we have only
fifteen or sixteen left to worry about."

"My dear Roland," said Sir John sadly, and without replying to the young
officer's wordy sally, "won't you ever tell me about this fever which
sears you, this sorrow which undermines you?"

"Ah!" said Roland, with his harsh, doleful laugh. "I have never been
gayer than I am this morning; it's your liver, my lord, that is out of
order and makes you see everything black."

"Some day I hope to be really your friend," replied Sir John seriously;
"then you will confide in me, and I shall help you to bear your burden."

"And half my aneurism!--Are you hungry, my lord?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I hear Edouard on the stairs, coming up to tell us that
breakfast is ready."

As Roland spoke, the door opened and the boy burst out: "Big brother
Roland, mother and sister Amelie are waiting breakfast for Sir John and
you."

Then catching the Englishman's right hand, he carefully examined the
first joint of the thumb and forefinger.

"What are you looking at, my little friend?" asked Sir John.

"I was looking to see if you had any ink on your fingers."

"And if I had ink on my fingers, what would it mean?"

"That you had written to England, and sent for my pistols and sword."

"No, I have not yet written," said Sir John; "but I will to-day."

"You hear, big brother Roland? I'm to have my sword and my pistols in a
fortnight!"

And the boy, full of delight, offered his firm rosy cheek to Sir John,
who kissed it as tenderly as a father would have done. Then they went to
the dining-room where Madame de Montrevel and Amelie were awaiting them.

CHAPTER XII. PROVINCIAL PLEASURES

That same day Roland put into execution part of his plans for his
guest's amusement. He took Sir John to see the church of Brou.

Those who have seen the charming little chapel of Brou know that it is
known as one of the hundred marvels of the Renaissance; those who have
not seen it must have often heard it said. Roland, who had counted on
doing the honors of this historic gem to Sir John, and who had not seen
it for the last seven or eight years, was much disappointed when, on
arriving in front of the building, he found the niches of the saints
empty and the carved figures of the portal decapitated.

He asked for the sexton; people laughed in his face. There was no longer
a sexton. He