e true humbleness of a contrite heart, that
she was undeserving of any honest, good man. Everybody else, even those
who knew her history, thought otherwise; but Mary continued firm in her
resolution. As for all the rest of the personages introduced into these
pages, they passed through life with an average portion of happiness,
which is all that can be expected.

In conclusion, we have only one remark to make. In this story we have
shown how a young lad, who commenced his career with poaching,
ultimately became a gentleman of 7,000 pounds a year; but we must remind
our youthful readers, that it does not follow that every one who
commences with poaching is to have the same good fortune. We advise
them, therefore, not to attempt it, as they may find that instead of
7,000 pounds a year, they may stand a chance of going to where our hero
very narrowly escaped from being sent; that is, to a certain portion of
her Majesty's dominions beyond the seas, latterly termed Australia, but
more generally known by the appellation of Botany Bay.

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

A RENCONTRE.

A SHORT STORY.

One evening I was sitting alone in the _salle a manger_ of the _Couronne
d'Or_, at Boulogne, when Colonel G---, an old acquaintance, came in.
After the first greeting, he took a chair, and was soon as busily
occupied as I was with a cigar, which was occasionally removed from our
lips, as we asked and replied to questions as to what had been our
pursuits subsequently to our last rencontre. After about half an hour's
chit-chat, he observed, as he lighted a fresh cigar--

"When I was last in this room, I was in company with a very strange
personage."

"Male or female?" inquired I.

"Female," replied Colonel G---. "Altogether it's a story worth telling,
and, as it will pass away the time, I will relate it to you--unless you
wish to retire."

As I satisfied him that I was not anxious to go to bed, and very anxious
to hear his story, he narrated it, as nearly as I can recollect, in the
following words:--

"I had taken my place in the diligence from Paris, and when I arrived at
_Notre Dame des Victoires_ it was all ready for a start; the luggage,
piled up as high as an English haystack, had been covered over and
buckled down, and the _conducteur_ was calling out for the passengers.
I took my last hasty whiff of my cigar, and unwillingly threw away more
than half of a really good Havannah; for I perceived that in the
_interieur_,