de-camps' quarters were, in an out-building of
a farm, where several of these gentlemen were seated, drinking and
singing, and at supper. If he had any anxiety about his boy, 'twas
relieved at once. One of the gentlemen was singing a song to a tune that
Mr. Farquhar and Mr. Gay both had used in their admirable comedies, and
very popular in the army of that day; and after the song came a chorus,
"Over the hills and far away;" and Esmond heard Frank's fresh voice,
soaring, as it were, over the songs of the rest of the young men--a
voice that had always a certain artless, indescribable pathos with it,
and indeed which caused Mr. Esmond's eyes to fill with tears now, out
of thankfulness to God the child was safe and still alive to laugh and
sing.

When the song was over Esmond entered the room, where he knew several of
the gentlemen present, and there sat my young lord, having taken off
his cuirass, his waistcoat open, his face flushed, his long yellow
hair hanging over his shoulders, drinking with the rest; the youngest,
gayest, handsomest there. As soon as he saw Esmond, he clapped down his
glass, and running towards his friend, put both his arms round him and
embraced him. The other's voice trembled with joy as he greeted the
lad; he had thought but now as he stood in the court-yard under the
clear-shining moonlight: "Great God! what a scene of murder is here
within a mile of us; what hundreds and thousands have faced danger
to-day; and here are these lads singing over their cups, and the same
moon that is shining over yonder horrid field is looking down on Walcote
very likely, while my lady sits and thinks about her boy that is at the
war." As Esmond embraced his young pupil now, 'twas with the feeling
of quite religious thankfulness and an almost paternal pleasure that he
beheld him.

Round his neck was a star with a striped ribbon, that was made of small
brilliants and might be worth a hundred crowns. "Look," says he, "won't
that be a pretty present for mother?"

"Who gave you the Order?" says Harry, saluting the gentleman: "did you
win it in battle?"

"I won it," cried the other, "with my sword and my spear. There was a
mousquetaire that had it round his neck--such a big mousquetaire, as big
as General Webb. I called out to him to surrender, and that I'd give him
quarter: he called me a petit polisson and fired his pistol at me, and
then sent it at my head with a curse. I rode at him, sir, drove my sword
right u