wish to make the acquaintance of my
mother's relations."

"I shall feel better satisfied," she rejoined, "if you will promise
me not to trouble the poor old gentleman about business matters."

I had no difficulty in conscientiously giving such a promise. Then
Francis continued--

"I must also warn you the General is not alone. We have a certain
Captain Rolf, an old pensioned officer, quartered at the Werve; he
is of rude manners and ill-educated, for he has risen from the ranks;
but he has a good heart, and my grandfather could not do without his
company. Our way of treating each other may surprise you, perhaps
annoy you. Even when I was a child he called me his colonel, and flew
anywhere at a wink from me; and he does so still, though his movements
have been rendered more tardy by his stiff legs and rheumatism. Fishing
is his favourite amusement since he has been obliged to give up
shooting. I employ him as my gamekeeper; and when the cook is ill,
he prefers frying a beefsteak and making the soup himself, to going
on short commons. In fact, he is a gastronome, and since he obtained
his pension his whole time seems to be occupied with the grand
question: 'What shall we eat to day?' And, alas! grandfather is no
less interested in the same subject, so that most of their morning
conversation is about the dishes to be prepared for the dinner."

As we drew near the manor-house Francis gently withdrew her arm from
mine, and stepped on sharply as we heard the clock in the village
church-steeple strike one, saying--

"I know I am being waited for impatiently, and half the garrison will
have turned out in search of me."

CHAPTER XII.

The Castle de Werve presented all the appearances of ancient opulence;
but also of dilapidation dating from a long time back. There was the
feudal drawbridge, immovable through long disuse, leading straight
to the large gate, full of those iron rivets used in olden times as
a defence against the attacks of the hatchet and pike. But the wood
itself was rotting, and the rusty hinges could scarcely sustain their
accustomed weight. In the tumbledown walls I could see loopholes
large enough for a giant to creep through.

The house had been rebuilt in the time of the Stadtholder William
III.--King William III. of England--and the rich, solemn style then
in vogue had been adopted. There was a sort of rotunda in the centre,
kept, relatively speaking, in better repair than the rest