and depravity would occasionally take place, only too likely
where a large number of men were left so much to themselves. Yet there
were doubtless hundreds among them who, but for the demands of a most
cruel war, would have been living the lives of peaceful, useful citizens.
It may be, moreover, that among the officers there was infidelity behind
the outward decorum of gentlemen.

So the good bishop had plenty on his hands, and he did his best patiently
and perseveringly, though by no means always with success (as is the case
still with good efforts, under much more favourable circumstances); and
all but the vilest respected him, and many paid at least outward
attention to his ministrations: and for this reason--because they felt
there could not be the slightest doubt that his kind intentions were
altogether sincere.

A few days afterwards, the bishop came up to Tournier as he was taking
exercise in the paved portion of the yard, and shaking him with gentle
courtesy by the hand, said, "Captain Tournier, will you oblige me by
letting us have a short walk together?" Then turning to others who were
near, he added, with a pleasant smile, "Gentlemen, I hope you are all
well this morning," and putting his arm in Tournier's went to the gate.
There was a guard-room and a turnkey's lodge outside. A glance through
the grating of the heavy door, and the wicket was instantly unlocked.

They proceeded together along the Peterborough road towards Yaxley. The
day was bright, and the broad distant view from the high ground they trod
was very pretty, with comfortable-looking homesteads dotted about, the
very picture of freedom and peace.

"The English have chosen an agreeable and healthy spot for us poor
prisoners, Captain Tournier."

He called himself a "prisoner," but he was not. And yet he was--a
prisoner to sympathy with the unhappy.

"May I hope that you are becoming more reconciled with your lot, my
friend," he said, in a soft persuasive tone, as if he feared to seem
intrusive.

"Not in the slightest degree, Monseigneur," was the answer. "Why should
I? Yet, believe me, I am exceedingly touched by your interesting
yourself in me."

"You say _why_ should you become more reconciled with your lot. My
simple reply is, because it is God's will."

"I do not wish to shock you--you who are so good and true, and who hold
so high a position in the church: but I will not deceive you, nor will I
play the hypocrite even to g