on a tried soldier when we want one."

"I am going to Beaurepaire."

"Beaurepaire? I never heard of it."

"You never heard of Beaurepaire? it is in Brittany, forty-five leagues
from Paris, forty-three leagues and a half from here."

"Good! Health and honor to you, colonel."

"The same to you, lieutenant; or a soldier's death."

The new colonel read the precious document across his horse's mane, and
then he was going to put one of the epaulets on his right shoulder, bare
at present: but he reflected.

"No; she should make him a colonel with her own dear hand. He put them
in his pocket. He would not even look at them till she had seen them.
Oh, how happy he was not only to come back to her alive, but to come
back to her honored."

His wound smarted, his limbs ached, but no pain past or present could
lay hold of his mind. In his great joy he remembered past suffering
and felt present pain--yet smiled. Only every now and then he pined for
wings to shorten the weary road.

He was walking his horse quietly, drooping a little over his saddle,
when another officer well mounted came after him and passed him at a
hand gallop with one hasty glance at his uniform, and went tearing on
like one riding for his life.

"Don't I know that face?" said Dujardin.

He cudgelled his memory, and at last he remembered it was the face of
an old comrade. At least it strongly reminded him of one Jean Raynal who
had saved his life in the Arno, when they were lieutenants together.

Yes, it was certainly Raynal, only bronzed by service in some hot
country.

"Ah!" thought Camille; "I suppose I am more changed than he is; for he
certainly did not recognize me at all. Now I wonder what that fellow has
been doing all this time. What a hurry he was in! a moment more and
I should have hailed him. Perhaps I may fall in with him at the next
town."

He touched his horse with the spur, and cantered gently on, for trotting
shook him more than he could bear. Even when he cantered he had to press
his hand against his bosom, and often with the motion a bitterer pang
than usual came and forced the water from his eyes; and then he smiled.
His great love and his high courage made this reply to the body's
anguish. And still his eyes looked straight forward as at some object
in the distant horizon, while he came gently on, his hand pressed to his
bosom, his head drooping now and then, smiling patiently, upon the road
to Beaurepaire.

Oh! if anybod