ne,--one of those simple but touching airs which the peasantry of the
South are so attached to. Their oval faces bronzed with the sun; their
long, flowing hair, divided on the head and falling loose on either
shoulder; their dark eyes and long lashes,--bespoke them all from that
land of Bourbon loyalty, La Vendue, even had not their yellow jackets,
covered with buttons along the sleeves, and their loose hose, evinced
their nationality. Many of the countenances I now remembered to have
seen the preceding night; but some were careworn and emaciated, as if
from long imprisonment.

I cannot tell how the simple piety of these poor peasants touched me,
contrasted, too, with the horrible indifference of the others. As I
approached them, I was recognized; and whether supposing that I was a
well wisher to their cause, or attracted merely by the tie of common
misfortune, they saluted me respectfully, and seemed glad to see me.
While two or three of those I had seen before moved forward to speak
to me, I remarked that a low, swarthy man, with a scar across his upper
lip, examined me with marked attention, and then whispered something
to the rest. At first he seemed to pay little respect to whatever they
said,--an incredulous shake of the head, or an impatient motion of the
hand, replying to their observations. Gradually, however, he relaxed in
this, and I could see that his stern features assumed a look of kinder
meaning. "So, friend," said he, holding out his tanned and powerful hand
towards me, "it was thou saved our chief from being snared like a wolf
in a trap. Le bon Dieu will remember the service hereafter; and the
good King will not forget thee, if the time ever comes for his better
fortune."

"You must not thank me," said I, smiling; "the service I rendered was
one instigated by friendship only. I know not your plans; I never knew
them. The epaulette I wear I never was false to."

A murmur of dissatisfaction ran along the party, and I could mark that
in the words they interchanged, feelings of surprise were mingled with
displeasure. At last, the short man, commanding silence with a slight
motion of the hand, said,--

"I am sorry for it,--your courage merited a better cause; however, the
avowal was at least an honest one. And now, tell us, why came you here?"

"For the very reason I 've mentioned. My presence at the chateau last
night, and my discovery during the attack, were enough to impute guilt.
How can I clear mys