however, looked long and moodily at him, clasped
his hand and left him.

Ireneus was yet more desolate than he had been during the days preceding
Alete's marriage. A letter from one of his friends greatly excited him.
This friend informed him that the legitimist party was about to attempt
the reconquest of the realm. The Duchess de Berry had left Scotland, for
Massa, thence she had opened a correspondence with many provinces. La
Vendee and the south opened their arms to her, and crowds of devoted
servants had pledged themselves to her.

All announced an approaching conflict, and all seemed to promise success.
Will you not, said his enthusiastic correspondent, join in our
enterprise, and share in our glory? I have always known you faithful to
your principles, and determined to defend them. You will not suffer
yourself to be led astray by a repose which is unworthy of you, and
slumber in peasant life. Shall I write to you some day as the valliant
Beornere did, "go hang yourself, Crellon, for there was a battle at
Arques, and you were away?"--No, the color under which you first fought
is about to be flung to the wind, and your friends will not expect you in
vain.

When he heard this news, when he heard the trumpet call, Ireneus felt all
his military ardor revived. Often in the peaceable days he passed in his
uncle's house, he reproached himself with a happiness to which he did not
think himself entitled. Now he could not absent himself from the arena,
in which his friends were about to enter; he could not desert them. In
the ardor of his monarchical sentiments he forgot that this enterprise
was civil war, in which brothers would be arrayed against each other, and
the soil of France steeped in the blood of its own children. He only
thought of his oath of allegiance and his banner. His first idea was to
go. When, however, he reflected more calmly, he thought it his duty to
inform his uncle of his plans, and, under the pretext of hunting,
wandered over the fields with his gun on his shoulder, forming his
schemes and dreaming of the glory that awaited him.

An accident delayed the execution of his plans, and at the same time gave
him an additional excuse for leaving Sweden. M. de Vermondans, who saw
him come home every night with an empty game bag, said to him:

"I must, dear Ireneus, recompense you for your useless wanderings; and I
will procure you the pleasure of a bear-hunt. There are two young men in
the village, wh