ir _preux chevalier_? By
the way, speaking of them, poor Mount received his _conge_ last night, I
expect."

"What! are you sure? What did you say?" demanded Fane, stooping to
relight his cigar.

I told him what I had overheard in the conservatory.

"Oh! well--ah! indeed--poor fellow!" ejaculated the captain. "But
there's the bugle-call! I must go and get into harness."

And I followed his example, turning over in my mind, as I donned my
uniform, what might possibly have induced Fane to leave Layton Rise so
suddenly. Was it, at last, pity for Florence? And if it were, would not
the pity come too late?

Layton Rise looked very pretty and bright under the combined influence
of beauty and valor (that is the correct style, is it not?). The
Aspedens came early, and drew up their carriages close to the
flag-staff. Fane's eye-glass soon spied them from our distant corner of
the field, and, as we passed before the flagstaff, he bent low to his
saddle with one of those fascinating smiles which have gone deep to so
many unfortunate young ladies' hearts. Again I felt angry with him, as I
rode along thinking of that girl, her whole future most likely clouded
for ever, and he going away to-morrow to enjoy himself about in the
world, quite reckless of the heart he had broken, and---- But in the
midst of my sentimentalism I was startled by hearing the sharp voice of
old Townsend, our colonel, who was a bit of a martinet, asking poor
Ennuye "what he lifted his hand for?"

"There was a bee upon my nose, colonel."

"Well, sir, and if there were a whole hive of bees upon your nose, what
right have you to raise your hand on parade?" stormed the colonel.

There was a universal titter, and poor Ennuye was glad to hide his
confusion in the "charge" which was sounded.

On we dashed our horses at a stretching gallop, our spurs jingling, our
plumes waving in the wind, and our lances gleaming in the sunlight.
Hurrah! there is no charge in the world like the resistless English
dragoons'! On we went, till suddenly there was a piercing cry, and one
of the carriages, in which the ponies had been most negligently left,
broke from the circle and tore headlong down the common, at the bottom
of which was a lake. One young lady alone was in it. It was impossible
for her to pull in the excited little grays, and, unless they _were_
stopped, down they would all go into it. But as soon as it was
perceived, Fane had rushed from the ranks, and, diggin