the horses arrived from any quarter-with | thought for poor Amelia. her husband or without him.

Rebecca had the pleasure of seeing her ladyship in the horseless carriage, and keeping her eyes fixed upon her, and bewailing, in the loudest tone of voice, the countess's perplexities. "Not to be able to get horses!" she said, "and to have ail those diamonds sewed into the carriage cushions! What a prize it will be for the French when they come! the carriage and the diamonds I mean; not the lady!" She gave this information to the landlord, to the servants, to the guests, and the innumerable stragglers about the court-yard. Lady Bareacres could have shot her hom the carriage-window.

It was while enjoying the humiliation of her enemy that Rebecca caught sight of Jos, who made toward her directly he perceived her.

That altered, frightened, fat face, told his secret well enough. He too wanted to fly, and was on the look-out for the means of escape. "He shall buy my horses," thought Rebecca, "and I'll ride the mare.”

Jos walked up to his friend, and put the question for the hundredth time during the past hour, "Did she know where horses were to be had?"

"What, you fly ?" said Rebecca, with a laugh. "I thought you were the champion of all the ladies, Mr. Sedley."

"Horrid!" cried Rebecca, enjoying his perplexity.

"Besides, I don't want to desert her," cried the brother. "She shan't be deserted. There is a seat for her in my carriage, and one for you, dear Mrs. Crawley, if you will come; and if we can get horses-" sighed he

"I have two to sell," the lady said. Jos could have flung himself into her arms at the news. "Get the carriage, Isidor," he cried; "we've found them-we have found them."

What person

who loved a horse-speculation could resist such a temptation?

In reply, Rebecca asked him to come into her room, whither he followed her quite breathless to conclude the bargain. Jos seldom spent a half hour in his life which cost him so much money. Rebecca measuring the value of the goods which she had for sale by Jos's eagerness to purchase, as well as by the scarcity of the article, put upon her horses a price so prodigious as to make even the civilian draw back. "She would sell both or neither," she said, resolutely. Rawdon had ordered her not to part with them for a price less than that which she specified. Lord Bareacres below would give her the same money--and with all her love and regard for the Sedley family, her dear Mr. Joseph must conceive that poor people must live-nobody, in a word, could be more affectionate, but more firm about the matter of business.

Jos ended by agreeing, as might be supposed of him. The sum he had to give her was so large that he was obliged to ask for time; so large as to be a little fortune to Rebecca, who rapidly calculated that with this sum, and the sale of the residue of Rawdon's effects, and her pension as a widow, should he fall, she would now be absolutely independent of the world, and might look her weeds steadily in the face.

Once or twice in the day she certainly had herself thought about flying. But her reason gave her better counsel. Suppose the French do come," thought Becky, "what can they do to a poor officer's widow? Bah! the times of sacks and sieges are over. shall be let to go home quietly, or I may live pleasantly abroad with a snug little income."

We

Meanwhile Jos and Isidor went off to the stables to inspect the newly-purchased cattle. Jos bade his man saddle the horses at once. He would ride away that very night, that very hour. And he left the valet busy in getting the horses ready, and went homeward himself to prepare for his departure. It must be secret. He would go to his chamber by the back entrance. He did not care to face Mrs. O'Dowd and Amelia, and own to them that he was about to run.

By the time Jos's bargain with Rebecca was completed, and his horses had been visited and examined, it was almost morning once more. But though midnight was long passed, there was no rest for the city; the people were up, the lights in the houses flamed, crowds were still about the doors, and the streets were busy. Rumors of various natures went still from mouth to mouth one report averred that the Prussians had been utterly defeated; another that it was the English who had been attacked and conquered; a third that the lat

"Mr. Sedley, Mr. Sedley!" cried the boy faintly, and Jos came up almost frightened at the appeal. He had not at first distinguished who it was that called him.

ter had held their ground. This last rumor marched out of Brussels so gallantly twentygradually got strength. No Frenchmen had four hours before, bearing the colors of the made their appearance. Stragglers had regiment, which he had defended very galcome in from the army bringing reports lantly upon the field. A French lancer had more and more favorable: at last an aid-de- speared the young ensign in the leg, who camp actually reached Brussels with dis- fell, still bravely holding to his flag. At the patches for the commandant of the place, conclusion of the engagement, a place had who placarded presently through the town been found for the poor boy in a cart, and an official announcement of the success of he had been brought back to Brussels. the allies at Quatre Bras, and the entire repulse of the French under Ney after a six hours' battle. The aid-de-camp must have arrived sometime while Jos and Rebecca were making their bargain together, or the Little Tom Stubble held out his hot and latter was inspecting his purchase. When feeble hand. "I'm to be taken in here," he he reached his own hotel, he found a score said. Osborne-and-and Dobbin said I of its numerous inhabitants on the threshold was; and you are to give the man two Nadiscoursing of the news; there was no doubt poleons: my mother will pay you." This as to its truth. And he went up to commu- young fellow's thoughts, during the long nicate it to the ladies under his charge. He feverish hours passed in the cart, had been did not think it was necessary to tell them wandering to his father's parsonage which how he had intended to take leave of them, he had quitted only a few months before, how he had bought horses, and what a price and he had sometimes forgotten his pain in he had paid for them. that delirium.

The hotel was large, and the people kind, and all the inmates of the cart were taken in and placed on various couches. The young ensign was conveyed up-stairs to Osborne's quarters. Amelia and the major's wife had rushed down to him, when the latter had recognized him from the balcony.

But success or defeat was a minor matter to them, who had only thought for the safety of those they loved. Amelia, at the news of the victory, became still more agitated even than before. She was for going that moment to the army. She besought her brother with tears to conduct her thither. Her doubts and terrors reached their parox-You may fancy the feelings of these women ysm; and the poor girl, who for many hours had been plunged into stupor, raved and ran hither and thither in hysteric insanity-a piteous sight. No man writhing in pain on the hard-fought field fifteen miles off, where lay, after their struggles, so many of the brave-no man suffered more keenly than this poor harmless victim of the war. Jos could not bear the sight of her pain. He left his sister in the charge of her stouter female companion, and descended once more to the threshold of the hotel, where every body still lingered, and talked, and waited for

more news.

It grew to be broad daylight as they stood here, and fresh news began to arrive from the war, brought by men who had been actors in the scene. Wagons and long country carts laden with wounded came rolling into the town; ghastly groans came from within them, and haggard faces looked up sadly from out of the straw. Jos Sedley was looking at one of these carriages with a painful curiosity -the moans of the people within were frightful the wearied horses could hardly pull the cart. "Stop! stop!" a feeble voice cried from the straw, and the carriage stopped opposite Mr. Sedley's hotel.

"It is George, I know it is!" cried Amelia, rushing in a moment to the balcony, with a pallid face and loose flowing hair. It was not George, however, but it was the next best thing: it was news of him.

It was poor Tom Stubble, who had

when they were told that the day was over, and both their husbands were safe; in what mute rapture Amelia fell on her good friend's neck, and embraced her; in what a grateful passion of prayers she fell on her knees, and thanked the Power which had saved her husband.

Our young lady, in her fevered and nervous condition, could have had no more salutary medicine prescribed for her by any physician than that which chance put in her way. She and Mrs. O'Dowd watched incessantly by the wounded lad, whose pains were very severe, and in the duty thus forced upon her, Amelia had not time to brood over her personal anxieties, or to give herself up to her own fears and forebodings after her wont. The young patient told in his simple fashion the events of the day, and the actions of our friends of the gallant -th. They had suffered severely. They had lost very many officers and men. The major's horse had been shot under him as the regiment charged, and they all thought that O'Dowd was gone, and that Dobbin had got his majority, until on their return from the charge to their old ground, the major was discovered seated on Pyramus's carcass, refreshing himself from a case-bottle. It was Captain Osborne that cut down the French lancer who had speared the ensign. Amelia turned so pale at the notion, that Mrs. O'Dowd stopped the young ensign in his story. And it was Captain Dobbin who at

the end of the day, though wounded him- ments were got ready, and tricolored banself, took up the lad in his arms and carriedners and triumphal emblems manufactured, him to the surgeon, and thence to the cart to welcome the arrival of His Majesty the which was to bring him back to Brussels. emperor and king. And it was he who promised the driver two louis if he would make his way to Mr. Sedley's hotel in the city; and tell Mrs. Captain Osborne that the action was over, and that her husband was unhurt and well.

the force of his heart, about the little wife | on; never mind what she says; why are we whom he had left behind him. to stop here and be butchered by the Frenchmen ?"

The next day was a Sunday. And Mrs. Major O'Dowd had the satisfaction of seeing both her patients refreshed in health and spirits by some rest which they had taken during the night. She herself had slept on a great chair in Amelia's room, ready to wait upon her poor friend or the ensign, should either need her nursing. When morning came, this robust woman went back to the house where she and her major had their billet; and here performed an elaborate and splendid toilet, befitting the day. And it is very possible that while alone in that chamber, which her husband had inhabited, and where his cap still lay on the pillow, and his cane stood in the corner, one prayer at least was sent up to Heaven for the welfare of the brave soldier, Michael O'Dowd.

When she returned she brought her prayer-book with her, and her uncle the dean's famous book of sermons, out of which she never failed to read every Sabbath; not understanding all, haply, not pronouncing many of the words aright, which were long and abstruse-for the dean was a learned man, and loved long Latin words-but with great gravity, vast emphasis, and with tolerable correctness in the main. How often has my Mick listened to these sermons, she thought, and me reading in the cabin of a calm! She proposed to resume this exercise on the present day, with Amelia and the wounded ensign for a congregation. The same service was read on that day in twenty thousand churches at the same hour; and millions of British men and women, on their knees, implored protection of the Father of all.

They did not hear the noise which disturbed our little congregation at Brussels. Much louder than that which had interrupted them two days previously, as Mrs. O'Dowd was reading the service in her best voice, the cannon of Waterloo began to

roar.

When Jos heard that dreadful sound, he made up his mind that he would bear this perpetual recurrence of terrors no longer, and would fly at once. He rushed into the sick man's room, where our three friends had paused in their prayers, and further interrupted them by a passionate appeal to Amelia.

"You forget the -th, my boy," said the little Stubble, the wounded hero, from his bed-" and—and you won't leave me, will you, Mrs. O'Dowd ?"

"No, my dear fellow," said she, going up and kissing the boy. "No harm shall come to you while I stand by; I don't budge till I get the word from Mick. A pretty figure I'd be, wouldn't I, stuck behind that chap on a pillion?"

This image made the young patient to burst out laughing in his bed, and even made Amelia smile. "I don't ask her," Jos shouted out- I don't ask that-that Irish woman, but you, Amelia; once for all, will you come?"

"Without my husband, Joseph," Amelia said, with a look of wonder, and gave her hand to the major's wife. Jos's patience was exhausted.

"Good by then," he said, shaking his fist in a rage, and slamming the door by which he retreated. And this time he really give his order for march: and mounted in the court-yard. Mrs. O'Dowd heard the clattering hoofs of the horses as they issued from the gate; and looking on, made many scornful remarks on poor Joseph as he rode down the street with Isidor after him in a laced cap. The horses, which had not been exercised for some days, were lively, and sprang about the street. Jos, a clumsy and timid horseman, did not look to advantage in the saddle. "Look at him, Amelia, dear, driving into the parlor window. Such a bull in a china-shop I never saw." And presently the pair of riders disappeared in a canter down the street leading in the direction of the Ghent road. Mrs. O'Dowd pursuing them with a fire of sarcasm so long as they were in sight.

All that day, from morning until past sunset, the cannon never ceased to roar. It was dark when the cannonading stopped all of a sudden.

All of us have read of what occurred during that interval. The tale is in every Englishman's mouth; and you and I, who were children when the great battle was won and lost, are never tired of hearing and recounting the history of that famous action. Its remembrance rankles still in the bosoms of millions of the countrymen of those brave men who lost the day. They pant for an opportunity of revenging that humiliation; and if a contest, ending in a victory on their part, should ensue, elating them in their turn, and leaving its cursed legacy of hatred and rage behind to us, there is no end to the so-called glory and shame, and to the alternations of successful and unsuccessful murder, in which two high-spirited_nations "I say, come Amelia," the civilian went might engage. Centuries hence, we French

"I can't stand it any more, Emmy," he said; "I won't stand it; and you must come with me. I have bought a horse for younever mind at what price--and you must dress and come with me, and ride behind Isidor."

"God forgive me, Mr. Sedley, but you are no better than a coward," Mrs. O'Dowd said, laying down the book.

men and Englishmen might be boasting and might have married a brewer's daughter killing each other still, carrying out bravely the devil's code of honor.

with a quarter of a million-like Miss Grains; or have looked to ally himself with the best All our friends took their share and fought families in England. He would have had like men in the great field. All day long, my money some day or other; or his chilwhile the women were praying ten miles dren would-for I'm not in a hurry to go, away, the lines of the dauntless English Miss Briggs, although you may be in a hurinfantry were receiving and repelling the ry to be rid of me; and instead of that, he furious charges of the French horsemen. is a doomed pauper, with a dancing-girl for Guns which were heard at Brussels were a wife." ploughing up their ranks, and comrades "Will my dear Miss Crawley not cast an falling, and the resolute survivors closing in. eye of compassion upon the heroic soldier, Toward evening, the attack of the French, whose name is inscribed in the annals of his repeated and resisted so bravely, slackened country's glory?" said Miss Briggs, who was in its fury. They had other foes besides greatly excited by the Waterloo proceedthe British to engage, or were preparing ings, and loved speaking romantically when for a final onset. It came at last; the there was an occasion. "Has not the capcolumns of the imperial guard marched up tain-or the colonel as I may now style him the hill of Saint Jean, at length and at once-done deeds which make the name of to sweep the English from the height Crawley illustrious?" which they had maintained all day, and Briggs, you are a fool," said Miss Crawspite of all unscared by the thunder of the ley: : Colonel Crawley has dragged the artillery, which hurled death from the En- name of Crawley through the mud, Miss glish line the dark rolling column pressed Briggs. Marry a drawing-master's daughon and up the hill. It seemed almost to ter, indeed!-marry a dame de compagnie crest the eminence, when it began to wave for she was no better, Briggs; no, she and falter. Then it stopped, still facing the was just what you are-only younger, and a shot. Then at last the English troops great deal prettier and cleverer. Were you rushed from the post from which no enemy an accomplice of that abandoned wretch, I had been able to dislodge them, and the wonder, of whose vile arts he became a vicguard turned and fled. tim, and of whom you used to be such an

:

No more firing was heard at Brussels-admirer? Yes, I dare say you were an the pursuit rolled miles away. The dark- accomplice. But you will find yourself disness came down on the field and city, and appointed in my will, I can tell you and you Amelia was praying for George, who was will have the goodness to write to Mr. Waxy, lying on his face, dead, with a bullet through and say that I desire to see him immediately." Miss Crawley was now in the habit of writing to Mr. Waxy, her solicitor, almost every day in the week, for her arrangements respecting her property were all revoked, and her perplexity was great as to the fu

his heart.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

IN WHICH MISS CRAWLEY'S RELATIONS ARE ture disposition of her money.

VERY ANXIOUS ABOUT HER.

The spinster had, however, rallied considerably; as was proved by the increased vigor and frequency of her sarcasms upon Miss Briggs, all which attacks the poor companion bore with meekness, with cowardice, with a resignation that was half generous, and half hypocritical-with the slavish submission, in a word, that women of her disposition and station are compelled to show. Who has not seen how women bully wom

THE kind reader must please to remember-while the army is marching from Flanders, and, after its heroic actions there, is advancing to take the fortifications on the frontiers of France, previous to an occupation of that country-that there are a number of persons living peaceably in England who have to do with the history at present in hand, and must come in for their share of en? What tortures have men to endure, the chronicle. During the time of these comparable to those daily-repeated shafts of battles and dangers, old Miss Crawley was scorn and cruelty with which poor women living at Brighton, very moderately moved are riddled by the tyrants of their sex? by the great events that were going on. Poor victims! But we are starting from The great events rendered the newspapers our proposition, which is, that Miss Crawrather interesting, to be sure, and Briggs ley was always particularly annoying and read out the Gazette, in which Rawdon savage when she was rallying from illnessCrawley's gallantry was mentioned with as they say wounds tingle most when they honor, and his promotion to be captain and are about to heal. lieutenant-colonel was presently recorded. "What a pity that young man has taken such an irretrievable step in the world," his aunt said; "with his rank and distinction he

While thus approaching, as all hoped, to convalescence, Miss Briggs was the only victim admitted into the presence of the invalid; yet Miss Crawley's relatives afar off