houghts
to enter your mind."

This conversation took place at the window: we then turned round to
General O'Brien and Celeste.

"Captain O'Brien," said the general.

"Sir Terence O'Brien, if you please, general. His Majesty has given me a
handle to my name."

"I congratulate you, Sir Terence," said the general, shaking him by the
hand: "what I was about to say is, that I hope you will take up your
quarters at this hotel, and we will all live together. I trust that we
shall soon find Ellen: in the meanwhile we have no time to lose, in our
exposure of Lord Privilege. Is the woman in town?"

"Yes, and under lock and key; but the devil a fear of her. Millions
would not bribe her to wrong him who risked his life for her husband.
She's Irish, general, to the back bone. Nevertheless, Peter, we must go
to our solicitor, to give the intelligence, that he may take the
necessary steps."

For three weeks, O'Brien was diligent in his search for Ellen, employing
every description of emissary without success. In the meanwhile, the
general and I were prosecuting our cause against Lord Privilege. One
morning, Lord Belmore called upon us, and asked the general if we would
accompany him to the theatre, to see two celebrated pieces performed. In
the latter, which was a musical farce, a new performer was to come out,
of whom report spoke highly. Celeste consented, and after an early
dinner, we joined his lordship in his private box, which was above the
stage, on the first tier. The first piece was played, and Celeste, who
had never seen the performance of Young, was delighted. The curtain then
drew up for the second piece. In the second act, the new performer, a
Miss Henderson, was led by the manager on the stage; she was apparently
much frightened and excited, but three rounds of applause gave her
courage, and she proceeded. At the very first notes of her voice I was
startled, and O'Brien, who was behind, threw himself forward to look at
her; but as we were almost directly above, and her head was turned the
other way, we could not distinguish her features. As she proceeded in
her song, she gained courage, and her face was turned towards us, and
she cast her eyes up--saw me--the recognition was mutual--I held out my
arm, but could not speak--she staggered, and fell down in a swoon.

"'Tis Ellen!" cried O'Brien, rushing past me; and making one spring down
on the stage, he carried her off, before any other person could come to
her as