port I betook myself speedily, having the
address of Colonel Newcome. His quarters were in a quiet grass-grown old
street of the Old Town. None of the family were at home when I called.
There was indeed no servant to answer the bell, but the good-natured
French domestic of a neighbouring lodger told me that the young monsieur
went out every day to make his designs, and that I should probably find
the elder gentleman upon the rampart, where he was in the custom
of going every day. I strolled along by those pretty old walks and
bastions, under the pleasant trees which shadow them, and the grey old
gabled houses from which you look down upon the gay new city, and the
busy port, and the piers stretching into the shining sea, dotted with
a hundred white sails or black smoking steamers, and bounded by the
friendly lines of the bright English shore. There are few prospects more
charming than the familiar view from those old French walls--few places
where young children may play, and ruminating old age repose more
pleasantly than on those peaceful rampart gardens.

I found our dear old friend seated on one of the benches, a newspaper on
his knees, and by his side a red-cheeked little French lass, upon whose
lap Thomas Newcome the younger lay sleeping. The Colonel's face flushed
up when he saw me. As he advanced a step or two towards me I could see
that he trembled in his walk. His hair had grown almost quite white. He
looked now to be more than his age--he whose carriage last year had been
so erect, whose figure had been so straight and manly. I was very much
moved at meeting him, and at seeing the sad traces which pain and grief
had left in the countenance of the dear old man.

"So you are come to see me, my good young friend," cried the Colonel,
with a trembling voice. "It is very, very kind of you. Is not this a
pretty drawing-room to receive our friends in? We have not many of them
now; Boy and I come and sit here for hours every day. Hasn't he grown a
fine boy? He can say several words now, sir, and can walk surprisingly
well. Soon he will be able to walk with his grandfather, and then Marie
will not have the trouble to wait upon either of us." He repeated this
sentiment in his pretty old French, and turning with a bow to Marie. The
girl said monsieur knew very well that she did not desire better than
to come out with baby; that it was better than staying at home, pardieu;
and, the clock striking at this moment, she rose u