hardly expect
to escape the necessity of asking the assistance of the charitable.
Even in the purest heart, and with the consciousness of perfect
rectitude, begging is a dismal prospect: he blushed scarlet at the
thought. Nor must we forget that he was the son of rich parents, and
could not but think of the plentiful supplies at home. He sang, with a
sad smile, a snatch of the old song,--

"The world's here and there,
But I haven't a share."

A drove of oxen came down the road, two brindles leading the way. Ivo
joined the drovers and asked where they were going. They were on the
way to a rich butcher in Strasbourg, and now on the direct road to
Freiburg. Ivo had gone round many miles, but was still on the right
road. He now asked the men to let him travel with them and help them,
and to pay his expenses: they looked at the strange man in black, with
the bugle under his arm, from head to foot, and whispered something to
each other.

"As for going to Algiers with the foreign legion, there's no use in
that at all," said one.

"Much better sit out your two or three years at home: they can't pull
your head off." The complacent smile with which this was said proved
conclusively that the speaker's personal experience vouched for its
correctness. It was clear that they took Ivo for a criminal,--a notion
which he did not venture to dissipate, as their pity was indispensable
to him. They said they could not make a bargain, but must refer him to
their employer, whom they expected to meet at Neustadt.

Ivo followed humbly in the train of the oxen: the graduate of the
penitentiary committed the sceptre into his hands, and he ruled over
the subject herd with mildness.

"Where did you get those brindles?" he asked.

"Ah," said the enemy of Algiers, "you can see what sort of a stable
they came from, can't you? They were bought from Buchmaier, at the
Hornberg fair."

Ivo ran up to the beasts, and recognised his favorite by the upturned
hair in the middle of the forehead. He almost feared that the fate of
the poor animal would be his own, and that death awaited him also; but
he could not and would not turn back.

But what was his astonishment when, on arriving at Neustadt, the
drovers saluted their employer, who was looking out of the window of
the inn, and he recognised him as Florian! He could not believe his
eyes, until Florian came up and welcomed the odd-looking drover with
shouts of l