undeniably inferior to none about him.

What becomes of the cant that classes the courage of men with the
instincts of the lowest brutes in presence of a fact like this? or must
we not frankly own that in the respect paid to personal daring we read
the avowal that, however constituted men may be, courage is a quality
that all must reverence?

Not meeting with the resistance he had half hoped for, denied none
of the claims he preferred, M'Caskey became bland and courteous. He
vouchsafed a nod to the croupier at the play-table, and manifested, by a
graceful gesture as he took his seat, that the company need not rise as
he deigned to join them..

In little more than a week after his arrival he had become famous; he
was splendid, too, in his largesses to waiters and lackeys; and it is
a problem that might be somewhat of a puzzle to resolve, how far the
sentiments of the very lowest class can permeate the rank above them,
and make themselves felt in the very highest; for this very estimation,
thus originating, grew at last to be at least partially entertained by
others of a very superior station. It was then that men discussed with
each other who was this strange Count,--of what nation? Five modern
languages had he been heard to talk in, without a flaw even of accent.
What country he served? Whence and what his resources? It was when
newspaper correspondents began vaguely to hint at an interesting
stranger, whose skill in every weapon was only equalled by his success
at play, &c, that he disappeared as suddenly as he had come, but not
without leaving ample matter for wonder in the telegraphic despatch he
sent off a few hours before starting, and which, in some form more or
less garbled, was currently talked of in society. It was addressed to
M. Mocquard, Tuileries, Paris, and in these words: "Tell E. I shall meet
him at the Compiegne on Saturday."

Could anything be more delightfully intimate? While the crafty idlers
of Baden were puzzling their heads as to who he might be who could thus
write to an imperial secretary, the writer was travelling at all speed
through Switzerland, but so totally disguised in appearance that not
even the eye of a detective could have discovered in the dark-haired,
black-bearded, and sedate-looking Colonel Chamberlayne the fiery-faced
and irascible Count M'Caskey.

A very brief telegram in a cipher well known to him was the cause of his
sudden departure. It ran thus: "Wanted at Chambery in a