lly upon the palsied instrument, bent over her
with smiling lips. It was the grand seignior, he of the equipage with
silver trimmings. If the horseman's gaze rested, not without interest,
on the pleasing picture of the young actress, it was now turned with
sudden and greater intentness to that of the dashing stranger, a swift
interrogation glancing from that look.

How had he made his peace with her? Certainly her manner now betrayed
no resentment. While motionless the rider yet sat in his saddle, an
invisible hand grasped the reins.

"Shall I put up your horse?" said a small voice, and the soldier
quickly dismounted, the animal vanishing with the speaker, as
Saint-Prosper entered the inn. Gay, animated, conscious of his
attractions, the fop hovered over the young girl, an all-pervading
Hyperion, with faultless ruffles, white hands, and voice softly
modulated. That evening the soldier played piquet with the wiry old
lady, losing four shillings to that antiquated gamester, and, when he
had paid the stakes, the young girl was gone and the buoyant beau had
sought diversion in his cups.

"Strike me," muttered the last named personage, "the little stroller
has spirit. How her eyes flashed when I first approached her! It
required some tact and acting to make her believe I took her for some
one else on the road. Not such an easy conquest as I thought, although
I imagine I have put that adventurer's nose out of joint. But why
should I waste time here? Curse it, just to cut that fellow out!
Landlord!"

"Yes, sir," answered the host behind the bar, where he had been
quietly dozing on a stool with his back against the wall.

"Do you think my horse will be fit for use to-morrow morning?"

"The swelling has gone down, sir, and perhaps, with care--"

"Perhaps! I'll take no chances. Hang the nag, but I must make the best
of it! See that my bed is well warmed, and"--rising--"don't call me in
the morning. I'll get up when I please. Tell my man to come up at
once--I suppose he's out with the kitchen wenches. I have some orders
to give him for the morning. Stay--send up a lamp, and--well, I
believe that's all for now!"

CHAPTER IV

"GREEN GROW THE RUSHES, O!"

So well advertised in the village had been the theatrical company and
so greatly had the crusade against the play and players whetted public
curiosity that on the evening of the first performance every bench in
the dining-room--auditorium--of the tavern had an o