y, filling a large
goblet with Burgundy. "To our next meeting, gentlemen," and he bowed
as he lifted it to his lips. "Won't you drink to my toast?" said he,
stopping.

Caffarelli filled his glass, and touched it to his lips; but Maitland
sat with his gaze bent upon the fire, and never looked up.

"Present my homage to the pretty widow when you see her, Maitland, and
give her that;" and he flung down a photograph on the table. "It's not a
good one, but it will serve to remind her of me."

Maitland seized the card and pitched it into the fire, pressing down the
embers with his boot.

Caffarelli sprang forward, and laid his hands on M'Caskey's shoulders.

"When and where?" said the Major, calmly.

"Now--here--if you like," said Maitland, as calmly.

"At last," said a deep voice; and a brigadier of the gendarmerie
entered, followed by two of his men.

"M. le Comte," said he, addressing the Major, "I have been in search of
you since eleven o'clock. There 's a special train waiting to convey you
to Macon; pray don't lose any more time."

"I shall be at Naples within a fortnight," whispered Maitland.

"All right," replied M'Caskey. "M. le Brigadier, _a vos ordres_.
Good-bye, Count. By the way, I was forgetting my cheroots, which are
really excellent;" and so saying, he carefully placed them in his
cigar-case; and then, giving his great-coat to one of the gendarmes to
assist him while he drew it on, he waved a little familiar adieu with
his hand and departed.

"My dear Maitland, how could you so far forget yourself, and with such a
man?" said Caffarelli, laying his hands on his shoulder.

"With any _other_ man I could _not_ have forgotten myself," said he,
sternly. "Let us think no more of him."

CHAPTER XXXI. TWO FRIENDS

It was like a return to his former self--to his gay, happy, careless
nature--for Tony Butler to find himself with his friend Skeflfy. As
painters lay layers of the same color on, one over the other, to deepen
the effect, so does youth double itself by companionship. As for
Skeflfy, never did a schoolboy exult more in a holiday; and, like a
schoolboy, his spirits boiled over in all manner of small excesses,
practical jokes on his fellow-passengers, and all those glorious
tomfooleries, to be able to do which with zest is worth all the
enjoyment that ever cynicism yielded twice told.

"I was afraid you would n't come. I did n't see you when the coach drove
into the inn-yard; and I was so d