s they were vain; the late Emperor Napoleon
died two nights since."

The Count gave a violent start, gazing wildly in the Governor's eyes, as
if asking whether his words were true. Then turning to his son he took
off his cap and stood in silence with his head bowed down, before saying
in a low broken voice that reached no farther than the ears of Uncle
Paul and Rodd--

"Morny, my son, we were faithful to the end, even though we failed. Our
august master is free at last. But our country lives, and in the future
there is always for us _la France_."

There were several meetings between Uncle Paul, Rodd, and the
prisoners--if prisoners they could be deemed, for their captivity was of
the easiest kind--before the schooner set sail for England and home, and
during one of these, when all seemed once more the best of friends, the
doctor was heard to say--

"Yes, of course, I forgive him now, and you know, Des Saix, since that
sort of a trial we had I have never said one word of reproach. I was
not going to trample on a fallen man. But, you know, all that business,
to use a coarse old English expression, sticks in my gizzard. It was
not honourable, nor gentlemanly; I won't add noble. I don't think you
ought to have done it to one who trusted you and helped you as I did.
Now, look here; do you think it was a good example to set your son?"

"My friend," said the Count humbly--"May I still call you my friend?"

"As long as you live, sir!" cried the doctor warmly.

"Then I say to you, No; it was dishonourable, treacherous, and vile.
But my sword was devoted to the service of my dead master, my life was
his, and I was ready to give all to save him from his unhappy fate. Can
I say more than this: I have sinned. Forgive."

As matters turned out it was many, many months, owing to an accident to
the schooner and the delays in re-fitting at Las Palmas, and long stays
made in the Mediterranean--the entrance to which could not be passed
without a cruise within--before the _Maid of Salcombe_ approached the
English coast, and, oddly enough, once more Captain Chubb was driven to
take refuge for a few hours at Havre-de-Grace, where one of the first
things to be noticed was the familiar brig.

Inquiries followed at last, and Rodd and his uncle learned that the
vessel had been lying there for some time while her captain, the Count,
and his son were at Paris.

No: the officer in charge of the brig could give no information abou