At dawn a strong body of Russians were seen upon the heights opposite to those occupied by the Sardinians, and thence, being on ground higher than that upon our side of the river, they commanded both the Sardinian and French positions. The bridge was held by a company of infantry and a company of Bersaglieri, and General Della Marmora at once despatched another company of Bersaglieri to enable the advance to hold their post until the army got under arms. They mounted the opposite plateau, but this was so swept by the Russian guns, that they were forced at once to retire to the bridge.

Soon the artillery opened along the whole line on both sides. The French outposts had also been driven in, and before the troops were fairly under arms, the Russians had crossed the bridge, and were charging forward. The aqueduct, which was nine or ten feet wide and several feet deep, now formed the front of the French defence. It ran along on the face of the hill, with a very steep slope facing the Russians.

In spite of the fire of the French artillery in front, and of the Sardinian artillery which swept them in flank, the Russian soldiers pressed most gallantly forward, crossed the aqueduct, and tried to storm the height. The Sardinian fire, however, was too severe, and after ten minutes the Russians fell back. It met another column advancing at the double, and uniting, they again rushed forward. While they forded the river, two guns crossed by the bridge and another by a ford, and opened upon the French. The infantry, rushing breast deep through the water, began to scale the heights. But the French met them boldly, and after a fierce fight drove them down and across the bridge. On their left another column had attacked the French right, and in spite of the Sardinian guns which ploughed long lanes in their ranks, crossed the aqueduct and scaled the heights. But as they reached the plateau so terrible a storm of grape and musket-balls swept upon them, that the bead of the column melted away as it surmounted the crest. Fresh men took the place of those that fell, but when the French infantry, with a mighty cheer, rushed upon them, the Russians broke and ran. So great was the crowd that they could not pass the river in time, and 200 prisoners were taken, while the French and Sardinian artillery swept the remains of the column, as it retreated, with a terrible cross fire.

At the bridge, however, the Russians made one more effort. The reserves were brought up, and they again crossed the river and aqueduct. The French, however, were now thoroughly prepared, and the attack was, like the preceding one, beaten back with terrible slaughter. The Russians fell back along their whole line, covered by the fire of their artillery, while five regiments of cavalry took post to oppose that of the allies, should they attempt to harass the retreat.

The loss of the French was nine officers killed and fifty-three wounded, 172 men killed and 1163 wounded. The Sardinians had two officers killed and eight wounded; sixty-two men killed, and 135 wounded. The Russian loss was twenty-seven officers killed, and eighty-five wounded; 3329 men killed, 4785 wounded. Never were the advantages of position more clearly shown, for the Russians lost fifteen times as many killed as the allies, four times as many wounded, although they had all the advantages of a surprise on their side. The English had only a battery of heavy guns under Captain Mowbray engaged. These did good service.

Jack Archer saw but little of this battle. It commenced at daybreak and lasted little over an hour, and when Jack, with hundreds of other officers and soldiers, reached points from which a view of the plain could be commanded, a thick cloud of smoke was drifting across it, through which nothing could be seen until the heavy masses of Russians were observed making their way back covered by their cavalry, and the dying away of the cannonade told that the battle was over.

Life in camp was very cheery now. The troops were in splendid health and high spirits. Races were got up in each division, for almost all officers possessed ponies of some kind or other, and great amusement was caused by these events. Some of the lately-arrived regiments had brought their regimental bands with them, and these added to the liveliness of the camps. A good supply of eatables and wine could be obtained from the sutlers, and dinner-parties were constantly taking place. Altogether life in camp was very enjoyable.

The French, who during the winter had fared much better than ourselves, were now in a very inferior condition. The full publicity which had been given to the sufferings of our troops had so roused the British public, that not only had they insisted that Government should take all measures for the comfort of the soldiers, but very large sums had been collected, and ships laden with comforts and luxuries of all kinds despatched to the seat of war. Consequently our troops were now in every respect well fed and comfortable. Upon the other hand, the details of the sufferings of the French troops had been carefully concealed from the French people. Consequently nothing was done for them, and their food was the same now as it had been at Varna in the previous year. They were consequently exposed to the attacks of the same illness, and while the British army was enjoying perfect health, the French hospitals were crowded, and many thousands died of cholera and fever.

After the Tchernaya, as there was no probability of a renewal of the bombardment for a short time, Jack asked leave to spend a few days on board ship, as his services as interpreter were not likely to be required. This was readily granted. Here he had perfect rest. Captain Hethcote did not put him in a watch, and every day, with some of his messmates, he rowed out of the harbor, and coasted along at the foot of the lofty cliffs, sometimes fishing, sometimes taking a bath in the cool waters. This week's rest and change did Jack a great deal of good, for he had been feeling the effects of the long strain of excitement. He had had several slight touches of fever, and the naval doctor had begun to speak of the probability of sending him down to the hospital-ship at Constantinople. The week's rest, however, completely set him up, and he was delighted with the receipt of a budget of letters from home, written upon the receipt of his letter announcing his safety.

None but those who have gone through a long and tedious campaign, or who may be living a struggling life in some young colony, can know how great is the delight afforded by letters from home. For a time the readers forget their surroundings, and all the toil and struggle of their existence, and are again in thought among the dear ones at home. Retiring to some quiet place apart from their comrades, they read through their letters again and again, and it is not till every little item is got by heart, that the letters are folded up and put away, to be re-read over and over again until the next batch arrive.

Jack, of course, had heard much of his family from his brother, but the long letters of his father and mother, the large, scrawling handwriting of his little brothers and sisters, brought them before him far more vividly than any account could have done. Enclosed in his father's letter was one with a Russian postmark, and this Jack found was from Count Preskoff. It had been written six weeks after he had left them, and had, curiously enough, arrived in England on the very day after his own letter had reached home. The count wrote expressing their anxiety regarding him, and their earnest hopes that he had effected his escape. He said that his wife and daughters diligently read every paper they could get from end to end, but having seen no notice of the capture of two young Englishmen in disguise, they entertained strong hopes that their friends had effected their escape. The count said he was sure that Jack would be glad to hear that things in Russia looked brighter; that it was rumored that the Emperor Alexander intended on the occasion of his coronation to proclaim a general emancipation of the serfs, and that other measures of reform would follow. The party of progress were strong in the councils of the new monarch. The decree for his own banishment from court had been cancelled, and he was on the point of starting for St. Petersburg with his wife and daughters. A personal friend of his own had been appointed commandant of Berislav, and the late deputy commandant had been sent to join his regiment in the Crimea. The countess and his daughters were well, and Olga was studying English. He said that when the war was over he intended with his family to make a tour through the capitals of Europe, and hoped that they should see Jack in England. This was very welcome news, and Jack returned to the naval camp at the front in high glee.

One morning a lieutenant named Myers, asked Jack if he would like to accompany him on a reconnaissance, which he heard that a party of the Sardinian cavalry were going to push some little distance up the Baida Valley. Jack said that he would like it very much if he could borrow a pony. Mr. Myers said that he could manage this for him, and at once went and obtained the loan of a pony from another officer who was just going down into the battery. A quarter of an hour afterwards, having taken the precaution to put some biscuits and cold meat into their haversacks, and to fill their flasks with rum and water, they started and rode across the plain to the Sardinian camp.

The lieutenant had obtained the news of the proposed reconnaissance from an officer with whom he was acquainted on the Sardinian staff. The news, however, had been kept secret, as upon previous occasions so many officers off duty had accompanied these reconnaissances as to constitute an inconvenience. On the present occasion the secret had been so well kept that only some four or five pleasure-seekers had assembled when the column, consisting of 400 cavalry, started.

Jack, accustomed only to the flat plains of southern and western Russia, was delighted with the beauty of the valley through which they now rode. It was beautifully wooded, and here and there Tartar villages nestled among the trees. These had long since been deserted by the inhabitants, and had been looted by successive parties of friends and foes, of everything portable.

Presently they turned out of the valley they had first passed through and followed a road over a slope into another valley, similar to the first. For an hour they rode on, and then some distance ahead of the column they heard the report of a shot.

"The Cossacks have got sight of us," Mr. Myers said. "We shall soon learn if the Russians have any troops in the neighborhood."

Presently a scattered fire was opened from the walls of a country house, standing embowered in trees on an eminence near what appeared to be the mouth of the valley. The officer in command of the party dismounted one of the squadrons, and sent the men up in skirmishing order against the house. Two other squadrons trotted down the valley, and the rest remained in reserve. A sharp musketry conflict went on for a short time around the chateau. Then the Sardinians made a rush, and their shouts of triumph and the cessation of musketry proclaimed their victory.

At the same moment a soldier rode back from the cavalry that had gone up the valley, to say that a strong body of the enemy's horse were approaching across the plain. The order was given for a general advance, and the cavalry trotted down the valley to join the party in advance.

"Now, Mr. Archer," Lieutenant Myers said, "the best thing for us to do will be to ride forward to that house up there. See, the attacking party are coming back to their horses. We ought to have a good view over the plain, and shall see the fight between the Sardinians and the enemy. Besides, we may pick up some loot."

They soon reached the house, and, tying up their horses, entered. It was a fine chateau, handsomely furnished, but short as was the time that the Sardinians had held possession, they had already tumbled everything into confusion in their search for plunder. Tables and couches had been upset, closets and chiffoniers burst open with the butt-ends of the swords or with the discharge of a pistol into the lock. Looking-glasses had been smashed, valuable vases lay in fragments on the floor, bottles of wine whose necks had been hastily knocked off stood on the table. In the courtyard were signs of strife. Three or four Cossacks and two Sardinian horsemen lay dead.

"We will go out to the terrace in front of the house," Mr. Myers said. "From that we ought to have a view over the country."

Owing, however, to the trees which grew around, they were obliged to advance 100 yards or so from the house before they could see the plain. Then some half-mile out they saw the blue mass of Sardinian cavalry advancing by squadrons. Still farther two bodies of Russian horse, each nearly equal in strength to the Italians, were seen. There was a movement among the Sardinian horse. They formed into two bodies and dashed at the Russians. There was a cloud of dust, swords could be seen flashing in the sun, a confused melee for a minute or two, and then the Russians broke and rode across the plain, pursued by the Sardinians.

"A very pretty charge," Mr. Myers said. "Now we'll go in and look at the house. It will be fully half an hour before they return again."

They went in and wandered from room to room. The place had evidently been tenanted until quite lately. Articles of woman's work lay upon the table. A canary bird was singing in his cage. A fire burnt in the kitchen, and a meal was evidently in course of preparation when the first alarm had been given. The officers wandered from room to room, and collected a number of little trifles to take home as remembrances, small pictures of the Greek saints, such as are found in every Russian house, a little bronze statuette, two or three small but handsomely bound books, a couple of curious old plates; and Jack took possession, as a present for his elder sister, of a small work-box beautifully fitted up. Having made two bundles of their plunder, they prepared to go out again to see if the Sardinians were returning, when Jack, looking out of the window, uttered an exclamation of surprise and alarm. One of the thick fogs which are so common in the Black Sea, and on the surrounding coasts, had suddenly rolled down upon them, and it was difficult to see five yards from the window. Jack's exclamation was echoed by Mr. Myers.

"This is a nice business!" the latter exclaimed. "We had better find our ponies and make our way down into the valley at once. Seeing how thick the fog has come on, the Sardinians may not return here at all."

So saying, they hurried to the spot where they had tied up their ponies, and, leading them by the reins, descended into the valley.

"The fog is getting thicker and thicker," Mr. Myers said. "I cannot see three yards before me. We must listen for them as they pass, and then join them, although it's by no means impossible that we may be received with a shot."

Half an hour passed, and they grew more and more anxious. Another half-hour, and still no sound was heard.

"I do not think they can possibly have passed without our seeing them, Mr. Archer. The valley is a quarter of a mile wide, but we should be sure to hear the trampling of the horses and the jingling of the sabres."

"Yes, sir, I'm sure they have not passed since we got here. But they may possibly have seen the fog coming on and have ridden rapidly back, and passed before we came down, or they may have gone round by the mouth of the valley parallel to this, which we left to cross into this one."

"That is just what I have been thinking." Mr. Myers said. "What do you think we had better do? It is quite impossible that we can find our way back through such a fog as this."

"Quite impossible, sir," Jack said. "If we were to move from where we are, we should lose all idea of our bearings in three minutes, and should be as likely to go into the plain as up the valley."

"It's a most awkward position," Mr. Myers said anxiously. "Now, Mr. Archer, you have had some sort of experience of this kind before. Tell me frankly what you think is the best thing to be done."

"I have been thinking it over, sir, for the last half, hour," Jack said, "and it appears to me that the best thing to do would be for me to find my way up to the house again. I can't well miss that, as we came straight down hill. I will bring back two of those Cossacks' cloaks and lances. Then we had better move about till we come on a clump of trees, and make ourselves as comfortable there as we can. These fogs last, as you know, sometimes for two or three days. When it gets clear, whether it is to-day or to-morrow, we will look out and see whether there are any of the enemy about. Of course, as they know the way, they can come back in the fog. If we see any of them, we must put on the Cossack's cloaks, take their lances, and boldly ride off. They are always galloping about in pairs all over the country; so that we shall attract no attention."

"But if they catch us," the lieutenant said, "we shall be liable to be shot as spies."

"I suppose we shall, sir," Jack answered; "but I would rather run the risk of being shot as a spy than the certainty of being caught as a naval officer, and imprisoned till the war is over."

"Well, Mr Archer, I certainly can suggest nothing better," the lieutenant said. "Will you go up, then, and, get the cloaks you speak of?"

Leaving his pony with the lieutenant, Jack made his way up the hill. Fortunately, in their descent they had followed a small track worn by persons going to and from the chateau from the valley, and he had, therefore, but little difficulty in finding the house. He paused when he reached the courtyard, for he heard voices in the chateau. Listening attentively, he discovered that they were Russians, no doubt some of the party who had been driven thence by the Sardinians, and who had, upon the retirement of the latter, ridden straight back from the plain. Fortunately, the fog was so thick that there was no probability whatever of his movements being discovered, and he therefore proceeded to strip off two of the long coats, reaching almost down to the heels, which form the distinctive Cossack dress, from the dead men. He took possession also of their caps, their bandoliers for cartridges, worn over one shoulder, and of their carbines and lances, and then retraced his steps down the hill to his companion. Leading their ponies, they wandered aimlessly through the fog for a considerable time before they came to some trees.

"If you will hold my horse, sir," Jack said, "I will just look round, and see if this is a small wood. I shall lose you before I have gone a yard, so when you hear me whistle, please whistle back, but not loud, for there may be enemies close by for aught I know. I thought I heard voices just now."

Searching about, Jack found that the clump of trees extended for some little distance. Returning to the lieutenant, they entered the wood, and moved a little way among the trees, so as to be out of sight if the fog lifted suddenly. Then they loosened the saddle-girths, gathered some sticks and lit a fire, and using the Cossack coats for rugs, began to discuss the meal they had brought with them.

"If the Russians really advance again, and get between us and Balaklava, I do not see how on earth we are to pass through them," Mr. Myers said.

"No, sir, I don't think we could," Jack answered. "I should propose that we make a wide sweep round so as to come down upon the shore some distance away. As you know, boats from the ships often land at some of the deserted places along there in search of loot; so that we ought to be able to be taken off. If, when we are riding, we come upon any Russian troops suddenly, so that we cannot move away in any other direction without exciting suspicion, you must put a good face on it. My Russian is good enough to pass muster as a Cossack. All we have to do is to avoid any of these fellows, for they would detect at once that I did not belong to them."

"Well, Mr. Archer, you take things very coolly, and I hope you will get us out of the scrape we have got into. If I had been by myself, I should have ridden up and surrendered to the first Russians I saw."

"That would have been the best way, sir, had it not been for those poor beggars having been killed up above there; for in our naval dress we could not have hoped to have escaped. As it is, if we have any luck, we shall soon be back at Balaklava again."



CHAPTER XXIV.

A FORTUNATE STORM

The fog seemed to get thicker and thicker as the day went on. At nightfall, when it became evident that no move could be made before morning, they gave a biscuit to each of their ponies, cut some grass and laid it before them, and then, wrapping themselves in the Cossack cloaks to keep off the damp fog, were soon asleep. At day-break the fog was still thick, but as the sun rose it gradually dispersed it, and they were shortly able to see up the valley. They found that in their wandering in the mist they must have moved partly in a circle, for they were still little more than a quarter of a mile from the point where they had left it to ascend to the chateau. Round this they could see many soldiers moving about. Looking up the valley, they perceived lines of horses, picqueted by a village but a few hundred yards away.

"Those were the voices I thought I heard, no doubt, when we first came here," Jack said. "It's lucky we found these trees, for if we had wandered about a little longer, we might have stumbled into the middle of them. Now, sir, we had better finish the biscuits we put aside for breakfast, and be off. It is quite evident the direct way to the camp is close to us."

Saddling up their horses, and putting on the Cossack black sheepskin caps and long coats, and taking the lances and carbines, the latter of which were carried across the saddle before them, they mounted their ponies and rode off, quitting the wood at such a point that it formed a screen between them and the cavalry in the distance, until they had gone well down the valley. They were unnoticed, or at any rate, unchallenged by the party at the chateau, and, issuing from the valley, rode out into the open country.

Far out in the plain they saw several Russians moving about, and judged that these were occupied in searching those who had fallen in the cavalry fight of the preceding day. They did not approach them, but turning to the right, trotted briskly along, skirting the foot of the hills. They passed through two or three Tartar villages whose inhabitants scarcely glanced at them, so accustomed were they to the sight of small parties of Cossacks riding hither and thither.

In one, which stood just at the mouth of the valley which they had determined to enter, as a road running up it seemed to indicate that it led to some place, perhaps upon the sea-shore, they found several Russian soldiers loitering about. Lieutenant Myers would have checked his pony, but Jack rode unhesitatingly forward. An officer came out of one of the cottages.

"Any news?" he asked.

"None," Jack said. "The enemy's horse came out yesterday, through the Baida valley, but we beat them back again."

"Where are you going?" the Russian asked.

"Down towards the sea," Jack answered, "to pick up stragglers who land to plunder. A whole sotina is coming down. They will be here presently," so saying, with a wave of his hand, he resumed his way up the valley, Lieutenant Myers having ridden on, lest any questions should be addressed to him. The road mounted steadily, and after some hours' riding they crossed a brow, and found themselves at the head of a valley opening before them, and between the cliffs at its end they could see the sea.

They could scarcely restrain a shout of joy, and, quickening their speed, rode rapidly down the valley. Presently they perceived before them a small village lying on the sea-shore, to the left of which stood a large chateau, half hidden among trees.

"Do you think it's safe to ride in?" Mr. Myers asked.

"Most of these villages have been found deserted, sir," Jack said, "by our fellows when they landed. I'm afraid we are beyond the point to which they come, for I should think we must be twenty miles from Balaklava. However, there are not likely to be any troops here, and we needn't mind the Tartars."

They found, as they expected, that the village was wholly deserted, and, riding through it, they dismounted at the chateau. The doors were fastened, but, walking round it, they perceived no signs of life, and, breaking a window, they soon effected an entrance.

They found that the house, which was of great size and evidently belonged to a Russian magnate, was splendidly furnished, and that it had so far not been visited by any parties from the ships. Some fine pictures hung on the walls, choice pieces of statuary were scattered here and there, tables of malachite and other rare stones stood about, and Eastern carpets covered the floors.

"We are in clover now, sir," Jack said, "and if we could but charter a ship, we should be able to make a rich prize. But as our ponies can only carry us, I'm afraid that all these valuables are worthless to us."

"I'd give the whole lot of them," the lieutenant said, "for a good meal. At any rate, we are sure to find something for the ponies."

In the stables behind the house were great quantities of forage and the ponies soon had their fill.

The officers, taking some corn, of which also there was an abundance, hammered a quantity between two flat stones, and moistening the rough flour so obtained, with water, made two flat cakes, with which, baked over a wood fire, they satisfied their hunger. A consultation was held while they ate their meal, and it was agreed that as the place was evidently beyond the range of boats from Balaklava, they had better ride along the cliffs till they reached some village, where, as they would find from the state of the houses, parties were in the habit of coming.

After a couple of hours' stay to give the horses time to rest, they again saddled up and took the road along the coast. After riding two miles along the edge of the cliffs, they simultaneously checked their horses, as, upon mounting a slight rise, they saw before them the tents of a considerable party of Russian soldiers. As they had paused the moment their heads came above the level, they were themselves unobserved, and turning, they rode back to the chateau they had quitted, where, having made their ponies comfortable, they prepared to pass the night. There were plenty of luxurious beds, and they slept profoundly all night. In the morning they went down to the sea. Not a vestige of a boat was to be seen, and they began to question whether it would not be possible to make a small raft, and to paddle along the foot of the cliffs.

"We need not trouble about that now," Lieutenant Myers said, "for, unless I am mistaken, we're going to have a regular Black Sea gale in an hour or two. The wind is freshening fast, and the clouds banking up."

The lieutenant was not mistaken. In an hour the wind was blowing in furious gusts, and the sea breaking heavily in the little bay.

Having nothing to do, they sat under the shelter of a rock, and watched the progress of the gale. The wind was blowing dead along the shore, and grew fiercer and fiercer. Three hours passed, and then Lieutenant Myers leaped to his feet.

"See," he said, "there is a boat coming round the point!"

It was so. Driving before the gale was a ship's boat, a rag of sail was set, and they could see figures on board.

"She is making in here!" the lieutenant exclaimed. "Let us run down and signal to them to beach her at that level spot just in front of the village. No doubt it is some ship's boat which came out to picnic at one of the villages near Balaklava, and they have been blown along the coast and have been unable to effect a landing."

The boat's head was now turned towards shore, the sail lowered, and the oars got out. So high was the sea already, that the spectators feared every moment she would be swamped, but she was well handled, and once in the little bay the water grew smoother, and she soon made her way to the spot where the officers were standing. The latter were astonished when the men leaped out instantly, and, without a word, rushed at them, and in a moment both were levelled to the ground by blows of stretchers. When they recovered from the shock and astonishment, they found the sailors grouped round them.

"Hallo!" Jack exclaimed in astonishment, "Mr. Simmonds, is that you? What on earth are you knocking us about like that for?"

"Why, Jack Archer!" exclaimed the officer addressed, "where on earth did you come from? and what are you masquerading as a Cossack for? We saw you here, and of course took you for an enemy. I thought you were up at the front."

"So we were," Jack replied, "but, as you see, we are here now. This is Lieutenant Myers, of the 'Tartar.'"

"I'm awfully sorry!" Mr. Simmonds said, holding out his hand, and helping them to their feet.

"It was not your fault," Mr. Myers answered. "We forgot all about our Cossack dresses. Of course you supposed that we were enemies. It is fortunate indeed for us that you came here. But I fear you must put to sea again. There is a Russian camp two miles off on the hill, and the boat is sure to have been seen."

"It will be awkward," Lieutenant Simmonds said, looking at the sky, "for it is blowing tremendously. I think, though, that it is breaking already. These Black Sea gales do not often last long. At any rate, it would be better to take our chance there than to see the inside of a Russian prison."

"If you send a man along the road to that crest," Lieutenant Myers suggested, "he will see them coming, and if we all keep close to the boat, we may get out of gunshot in time."

A sailor was accordingly despatched up the hill. The instant he reached the top he was seen to turn hastily, and to come running back at full speed.

"Now, lads," Mr. Simmonds said, "put your shoulders to her. Now, all together, get her into the water, and be ready to jump in and push off when Atkins arrives."

When the sailor was still a hundred yards away the head of a column of Russian infantry appeared over the crest. When they saw the boat they gave a shout, and breaking, ran down the hill at full speed. Before they reached the village, however, Atkins had leaped into the boat, and with a cheer the men ran her out into the surf, and scrambled in.

"Out oars, lads, and row for your lives!" Mr. Simmonds said, and, with steady strokes the sailors drove their boat through the waves.

The Russians opened fire the instant they reached the beach, but the boat was already 150 yards away, and although the bullets fell thickly round, no one was hit.

"I think, Mr. Myers," Lieutenant Simmonds said, "we had better lay-to, before we get quite out of shelter of the bay. With steady rowing we can keep her there, and we shall be out of range of the Russians."

Mr. Myers assented, and for two hours the men, rowing their utmost, kept the boat stationary, partly sheltered by the cliffs at the mouth of the bay. The Russians continued to fire, but although the boat was not wholly beyond their range, and the bullets sometimes fell near, these were for the most part carried to leeward by the wind, and not a single casualty occurred.

"The wind is falling fast," Lieutenant Simmonds said. "We could show a rag of canvas outside now. We had best make a long leg out to sea, and then, when the wind goes down, we can make Balaklava."

For four or five hours the boat was buffeted in the tremendous seas, but gradually, as the wind went down, these abated, and after running twenty miles off the land, the boat's head was turned, and she began to beat back to Balaklava. It was eleven o'clock that night before they reached the "Falcon," officers and men completely worn out with their exertions.

Jack found to his satisfaction that no report of his being missing had been received by the captain, and next morning at daybreak he and Lieutenant Myers walked up to camp, regretting the loss of their ponies, which would, however, they were sure, be found by the Russians long ere they finished the stores of provender within their reach.

Upon reaching camp they found that their absence had not been noticed until the afternoon of the second day of their absence. They had been seen to ride away together, and when in the evening they were found to be absent, it was supposed that they had gone down to Balaklava and slept there. When upon the following day they were still missing, it was supposed that the admiral had retained them for duty on board ship. The storm, which had scattered everything, had put them out of the thoughts of the commanding officer, and it was only that morning that, no letter respecting them having been received, he was about to write to their respective captains to inquire the cause of their absence. This was now explained, and as they had been detained by circumstances altogether beyond their control, they escaped without a reprimand, and were indeed warmly congratulated upon the adventures they had passed through.

In the meantime the cannonade had been going on very heavily in front. The Russian outworks were showing signs of weakness after the tremendous pounding they were receiving. The French were pushing their trenches close up to the Malakoff, and upon both sides the soldiers were busy with pick and shovel. On the night of the 30th August a tremendous explosion took place, a Russian shell exploding in a French ammunition wagon, which blew up, killing and wounding 150 officers and men.

On the following night the naval brigade astonished the camp by giving private theatricals. The bill was headed "Theatre Royal, Naval Brigade. On Friday evening, 31st August, will be performed, 'Deaf as a Post,' to be followed by 'The Silent Woman,' the whole to conclude with a laughable farce, entitled 'Slasher and Crasher.' Seats to be taken at seven o'clock. Performance to commence precisely at eight. God save the Queen. Rule Britannia." The scenes were furnished from H.M.S. "London." The actors were all sailors of the brigade, the ladies' parts being taken by young boatswains' mates. Two thousand spectators closely packed were present, and the performance was immensely enjoyed in spite of the fact that the shell from the Russian long-range guns occasionally burst in the neighborhood of the theatre.

The French had now pushed forward their trenches so far that from their front sap they could absolutely touch the abattis of the Malakoff. On the 3d the Russians made a sortie, and some heavy fighting took place in the trenches. The time was now at hand when the last bombardment was to commence. The French began it early on the morning of the 5th. They had now got no less than 627 guns in position, while the English had 202. The news that it was to commence was kept a profound secret, and few of the English officers knew what was about to take place. Our own trenches were comparatively empty, while those of the French were crowded with men who kept carefully out of sight of the enemy.

Suddenly three jets of earth and dust sprung into the air. The French had exploded three mines, and at the signal a stream of fire three miles in length ran from battery to battery, as the whole of their guns opened fire. The effect of this stupendous volley was terrible. The iron shower ploughed up the batteries and entrenchments of the Russians, and crashed among the houses far behind. In a moment the hillside was wreathed with smoke. With the greatest energy the French worked their guns, and the roar was continuous and terrible.

For a time the Russians seemed paralyzed by this tremendous fire; lying quietly in their sheltered subterranean caves, they had no thought of what was preparing for them, and the storm which burst upon them took them wholly by surprise. Soon, however, they recovered from their astonishment, and steadily opened fire in return. The English guns now joined their voices to the concert, and for two hours the storm of fire continued unabating on both sides.

After two hours and a half the din ceased, the French artillery-men waiting to allow their guns to cool. At ten o'clock the French again exploded some mines, and for two hours renewed their cannonade as hotly as ever. The Russians could be seen pouring troops across the bridge over the harbor from their camps on the north side, to resist the expected attack. From twelve to five the firing was slack. At that hour the French again began their cannonade as vigorously as before.

When darkness came on, and accurate firing at the enemy's batteries was no longer possible, the mortars and heavy guns opened fire on the place. The sky was streaked with lines of fire as the heavy shells described their curves, bursting with heavy explosions over the town. Presently a cheer rose from the spectators who thronged the crest of the bill, for flames were seen bursting out from one of the Russian frigates. Higher and higher they rose, although by their light the Russians could be perceived working vigorously to extinguish them. At last they were seen to be leaving the ship. Soon the flames caught the mast and rigging, and the pillar of fire lit up the whole town and surrounding country. Not a moment did our fire slacken, but no answering flash now shot out from the Russian lines of defence. All night the fire continued, to prevent the enemy from repairing damages.

The next morning the English played the principal part in the attack, our batteries commencing at daylight, and continuing their fire all day. The Russians could be seen to be extremely busy. Hitherto they had believed that the allies would never be able to take the town; but the tremendous fire which the allies had now opened, and the close approach of the French to the Malakoff, had clearly shaken their confidence at last.

Large quantities of stores were transported during the day to the north side, and on the heights there great numbers of men were seen to be laboring at fortifications. The Russian army in the field was observed to be moving towards Inkerman, and it was believed that it was about to repeat the experiment of the Tchernaya and to make a desperate effort to relieve the town by defeating the allied armies in the field.

All that night the bombardment continued without intermission, the troops in the trenches keeping up a heavy musketry fire upon the enemy's works, to prevent them from repairing damages in the dark.

The next day was a repetition of those which had gone before it. The Russians replied but seldom, and occasionally when the smoke blew aside, it could be seen that terrible damage was being inflicted on the Russian batteries. At dusk the cannonade ceased, the shell bombardment took place, and at eleven a tremendous explosion occurred in the town.

The Russians from time to time lit up the works with fire-balls and carcasses, evidently fearing a sudden night attack. During the day a great council of war was held; and as orders were sent to the surgeons to send all the patients in the hospital down to Balaklava, and to prepare for the reception of wounded, it was known that the attack would take place next day.

Although the Russian fire in reply to the bombardment had been comparatively slight, from the 3d to the 6th we had three officers and forty-three men killed; three officers and 189 men wounded.

During these days Jack had been on duty in the batteries, and the sailors had taken their full part in the work.

There was some disappointment that night in the naval camp when it was known by the issue of the divisional orders that the sailors were not to be engaged in the assault. Jack, however, aroused the indignation of his tent-mates by saying frankly that he was glad that they were not going to share in the attack.

"It is all very well," he said, "to fight when you have some chance of hitting back, but to rush across ground swept by a couple of hundred guns is no joke; and to be potted at by thousands of fellows in shelter behind trenches. One knows what it was last time. The French send 12,000 men to attack a battery, we try to carry an equally strong place with 1000. If I were ordered, of course I should go; but I tell you fairly, I don't care about being murdered, and I call it nothing short of murder to send 1000 men to attack such a position as that. We used to say that an Englishman could lick three Frenchmen, but we never did it in any battle I ever heard of. Our general seems to think that an Englishman can lick ten Russians, although he's in the open, and they're behind shelter, and covered by the fire of any number of pieces of artillery."

"But we're certain to get in to-morrow, Jack."

"Are we?" Jack questioned; "so every one said last time. It's all very well for the French, who are already right under the guns of the Malakoff, and have only twenty yards to run. When they get in and drive the Russians out, there they are in a big circular fort, just as they were in the Mamelon, and can hold their own, no matter how many men the Russians bring up to retake it. We've 300 yards to run to get into the Redan, and when we get in where are we? Nowhere. Just in an open work where the Russians can bring their whole strength down upon us. I don't feel at all sure we're going to take the place to-morrow."

"Why, Archer, you're a regular croaker!" one of the others said. "We shall have a laugh at you to-morrow evening."

"I hope you will," Jack said; "but I have my doubts. I wish to-morrow was over, I can tell you. The light division are, as usual, to bear the brunt of it, and the 33d will do their share. Harry has had good luck so far, but it will be a hotter thing to-morrow than anything he has gone into yet, unless indeed the bombardment of the last three days has taken all heart out of the Russians. Well, let's turn in, for its bitterly cold to-night, and I for one don't feel disposed for talking."



CHAPTER XXV.

THE CAPTURE OF SEBASTOPOL

The morning of the 8th of September was bitterly cold, and a keen wind blowing from the town raised clouds of dust.

The storming parties were to be furnished by the light and second divisions. The first storming party of the light division was to consist of 160 men of the 97th regiment, who were to form in rear of a covering party of 100 men, furnished by the second battalion, Rifle brigade. They were to carry ladders for descending into the ditch of the Redan. Behind them were to come 200 men of the 97th and 300 of the 90th. The supports consisted of 750 men of the 19th and 88th regiments.

Therefore the assault was to be made by about 750 men, with an equal body in support, the remainder of the light division being in reserve.

The covering party of the second division consisted of 100 men of the 3d Buffs; the storming party, with ladders, of 160 of the 3d Buffs, supported by 260 of the 3d Buffs, 300 of the 41st, with 200 of the 62d, and 100 of the 41st. The rest of the second division were in reserve.

The first and Highland divisions were to be formed in the third parallel.

The orders were that the British attack was not to commence until the French had gained possession of the Malakoff. This they did with but slight loss. The storming columns were immensely strong, as 30,000 men were gathered in their trenches for the attack upon the Malakoff. This was effected almost instantaneously.

Upon the signal being given, they leaped in crowds from the advanced trench, climbed over the abattis, descended the ditch and swarmed up the rugged slope in hundreds.

The Russians, taken wholly by surprise, vainly fired their cannon, but ere the men could come out from their underground caves, the French were already leaping down upon them. It was a slaughter rather than a fight, and in an incredibly short time the Malakoff was completely in the possession of the French. In less than a minute from the time they leaped from the trenches their flag floated on the parapet.

The Russians, recovered from their first surprise, soon made tremendous attempts to regain their lost position, and five minutes after the French had entered, great masses of Russians moved forward to dispute its possession. For seven hours, from twelve to dusk, the Russians strove obstinately to recover the Malakoff, but the masses of men which the French poured in as soon as it was captured, enabled them to resist the assaults.

At length, when night came on, the Russian general, seeing that the tremendous slaughter which his troops were suffering availed nothing, withdrew them from the attack.

As the French flag appeared on the Malakoff, the English covering parties leaped from the trenches, and rushed forward. As they did so a storm of shot and shell swept upon them, and a great number of men and officers were killed as they crossed the 250 yards between the trenches and the Redan. This work was a salient, that is to say a work whose centre is advanced, the two sides meeting there at an angle. In case of the Redan it was a very obtuse angle, and the attacks should have been delivered far up the sides, as men entering at the angle itself would be exposed to the concentrated fire of the enemy behind the breastworks which ran across the broad base of the triangle. The projecting angle was, however, of course the point nearest to the English lines, and, exposed as they were to the sweeping fire of the enemy while crossing the open, both columns of assault naturally made for this point.

The Russian resistance was slight, and the stormers burst into the work. The abattis had been torn to pieces by the cannonade, and the men did not wait for the ladders, but leapt into the ditch and scrambled up on the other side.

The Russians within ran back, and opened a fire from their traverses and works in the rear. As the English troops entered, they halted to fire upon the enemy, instead of advancing upon them. The consequence was that the Russians, who were rapidly reinforced, were soon able to open a tremendous concentrated fire upon the mass of men in the angle, and these, pressed upon by their comrades who flocked in behind them, impeded by the numerous internal works, mixed up in confusion, all regimental order being lost, were unable either to advance or to use their arms with effect. In vain the officers strove by example and shouts to induce them to advance. The men had an idea that the place was mined, and that if they went forward they would be blown into the air. They remained stationary, holding their ground, but refusing to go forward.

Every minute the Russians brought up fresh reserves, and a terrific fire was concentrated upon the British. The officers, showing themselves in front, were soon shot down in numbers, and success, which had been in their hands at first, was now impossible.

For an hour and a half the slaughter continued, and then, as the Russian masses poured forward to attack them, the remnant who remained of the storming parties leaped from the parapet and made their way as best they could through the storm of bullet and shot, back to the trenches.

The fight had lasted an hour and three quarters, and in that time we had lost more men than at Inkerman. Our loss was 24 officers and 119 men killed; 134 officers, and 1897 men wounded. Had the regiments engaged been composed of the same materials as those who won the heights of the Alma, the result might have been different, although even in that case it is questionable whether the small force told off for the assault would have finally maintained itself against the masses which the Russians brought up against them. But composed as they were of young troops, many being lads sent off to the front a few weeks after being recruited, the success of such an attack, so managed, was well-nigh impossible from the first.

It was a gloomy evening in the British camps. We were defeated, while the French were victorious. The fact, too, that the attack had failed in some degree owing to the misconduct of the men added to the effect of the failure. It was said that the attack was to be renewed next morning, and that the Guards and Highland Brigade were to take part in it. Very gloomy was the talk over the tremendous loss which had taken place among the officers. From the manner in which these had exposed themselves to induce their men to follow them, their casualties had been nearly four times as large as they should have been in proportion to their numbers.

Jack Archer was in deep grief, for his brother had been severely wounded, and the doctors gave no strong hopes of his life. He had been shot in the hip, as he strove to get the men of his company together, and had been carried to the rear just before the Russian advance drove the last remnants of the assailants from the salient.

Jack had, with the permission of his commanding officer, gone to sit by his brother's bedside, and to give his services generally as a nurse to the wounded.

At eleven o'clock the hut was shaken by a tremendous explosion, followed a few minutes afterwards by another. Several of the wounded officers begged Jack to go to Cathcart's Hill, to see what was doing.

Jack willingly complied, and found numbers of officers and men hastening in the same direction. A lurid light hung over Sebastopol, and it was evident that something altogether unusual was taking place.

When he reached the spot from which he could obtain a view of Sebastopol, a wonderful sight met his eye. In a score of places the town was on fire. Explosion after explosion followed, and by their light, crowds of soldiers could be seen crossing the bridge. Hour after hour the grandeur of the scene increased, as fort after fort was blown up by the Russians. At four o'clock the whole camp was shaken by a tremendous explosion behind the Redan, and a little later the magazines of the Flagstaff and Garden batteries were blown up, and the whole of the Russian fleet, with the exception of the steamers, had disappeared under the water, scuttled by their late owners. At half-past five two of the great southern forts, the Quarantine and Alexander, were blown up, and soon flames began to ascend from Fort Nicholas.

The Russian steamers were all night busy towing boats laden with stores, from the south to the north side, and when their work was done, dense columns of smoke were seen rising from the decks. At seven o'clock in the morning the whole of the Russian troops were safely across the bridge, which was then dismembered and the boats which composed it taken over to the north side. By this time Sebastopol was, from end to end, a mass of flames, and by nightfall nothing save a heap of smoking ruins, surrounded by shattered batteries, remained of the city which had, for so many months, kept at bay the armies of England and France.

All through the night Jack Archer had travelled backwards and forwards between the crest of the hill and the hospital; for so great was the interest of the wounded in what was taking place that he could not resist their entreaties, especially as he could do nothing for his brother, who was lying in a quiet, half-dreamy state.

The delight of the English army at the fall of the south side of Sebastopol was greatly tempered by the knowledge that it was due to the capture of the Malakoff by the French. Their own share in the attack having terminated by a defeat, and the feeling which had been excited by the fact that the Guards and Highlanders, who had taken no part whatever in the trench-work during the winter, and who were in a high state of efficiency, should have been kept in reserve, while the boy battalions bore the whole brunt of the attack, found angry expression among the men.

All that day the allied armies remained quiescent. It was useless to attempt to occupy the burning town, and the troops might have been injured by the explosions which took place from time to time of stores of powder.

The Zouaves, however, and our own sailors made their way down in considerable numbers, and returned laden with loot from houses which had so far escaped the conflagration.

Happily the success of the French, and our own failure, did not create any feeling of unpleasantness between the troops of the two nations. As the remnants of the French regiments, engaged in the Malakoff, marched in the morning to their camps, the second division was drawn up on parade. As the leading regiment of Zouaves came along, the English regiment nearest to them burst into a hearty cheer, which was taken up by the other regiments as the French came along, and as they passed, the English presented arms to their brave allies and the officers on both sides saluted with their swords.

The next day the officers thronged down to see the ground where the fighting had taken place. Around the Malakoff the ground was heaped with dead. Not less had been the slaughter outside the work known as the Little Redan, where the French attack had been repulsed with prodigious loss.

The houses of the portion of the town nearest the batteries were found full of dead men who had crawled in when wounded in front. As a considerable number of the Russian steamers of war were still floating under the guns of their batteries on the north side, preparations were made at once to mount two heavy guns by the water-side; but the Russians, seeing that the last remains of their fleet would speedily be destroyed, took matters in their own hands, and on the night of the 11th the six steamers that remained were burnt by the Russians.

After the din which had raged so fiercely for the previous four days, and the dropping fire which had gone on for a year, the silence which reigned was strange and almost oppressive. There was nothing to be done. No turn in the trenches or batteries to be served, nothing to do but to rest and to prepare for the next winter, which was now almost upon them.

A week after the fall of Sebastopol the anniversary of the battle of Alma was celebrated. What great events had taken place since that time!

None of those who had rested that night on the vine-clad hill they had won, dreamed of what was before them, or that they were soon to take part in the greatest siege which the world has ever known. Small indeed was the proportion of those who had fought at the Alma now present with the army at Sebastopol. The fight of Inkerman, the mighty wear and tear in the trenches, the deadly repulses at the Redan, and above all, the hardships of that terrible winter, had swept away the noble armies which had landed in the Crimea, and scarcely one in ten of those who heard the first gun in the Alma was present at the fall of Sebastopol.

The naval camp was now broken up, the sailors returned on board ship, and the army prepared to go into winter quarters, that is to say, to dig deep holes under their tents, to erect sheltering walls, and in some instances to dig complete subterranean rooms.

A week after the assault Harry Archer was carried down to Balaklava and put on board ship. The surgeons had in vain endeavored to extract the bullet, and were unable to give any cheering reply to Jack's anxious inquiries.

His brother might live; but they owned that his chances were slight. It was a question of general health and constitution. If mortification did not set in the wound might heal, and he might recover and carry the bullet about with him all his life. Of course he had youth and health on his side, and Jack must hope for the best. The report was not reassuring, but they could say no more.

Weeks passed on, and the two armies lay watching each other from the heights they occupied. At last it was determined to utilize the magnificent fleet which had hitherto done so little. Accordingly an expedition was prepared, whose object was to destroy the forts at Kinburn and occupy that place, and so further reduce the sources from which the Russians drew their food.

The sight was an imposing one, as the allied squadrons in two long lines steamed north past the harbor of Sebastopol. The British contingent consisted of six line-of-battle ships, seventeen steam frigates and sloops, ten gun-boats, six mortar vessels, and nine transports.

On board the men-of-war were 8340 infantry, and 1350 marines. The transports carried the Royal Artillery, the medical commissariat and transport corps, stores of all kinds, and the reserve of ammunition. The French fleet was nearly equal in number to our own.

Steaming slowly, the great squadrons kept their course towards Odessa, and cast anchor three miles off the town. Odessa is one of the most stately cities of the sea; broad esplanades lined with trees, with a background of stately mansions; terrace after terrace of fine houses rising behind, with numbers of public buildings, barracks, palaces and churches; stretching away on the flanks, woods dotted with villas and country houses.

Odessa possessed forts and batteries capable of defending it against the attack of any small naval force; but these could have made no defence whatever against so tremendous an armament as that collected before it. With telescopes those on board were able to make out large numbers of people walking about or driving on the promenade. Long lines of dust along the roads showed that many of the inhabitants were hastily leaving or were sending away valuables, while on the other hand the glimmer of bayonets among the dust, told of the coming of troops who were hurrying in all directions to prevent our landing.

Odessa was, however, clearly at our mercy, and considerable controversy took place at the time as to whether the allies should not have captured it. Being defended by batteries, it ranked as a fortified town, and we should have been clearly justified in destroying these, and in putting the town under a heavy contribution, which the wealthy city could readily have paid. However, it was for some reason decided not to do so, and after lying at anchor for five days, the greater portion of which was passed in a thick fog, the great fleet steamed away towards Kinburn. The entrance to the gulf into which the Dneiper and Bug discharge themselves, is guarded by Fort Kinburn on the one side and by Fort Nikolaev on the other, the passage between them being about a mile across.

On the 17th fire was opened on Fort Kinburn, and although the Russians fought bravely, they were unable to withstand the tremendous fire poured upon them. Twenty-nine out of their seventy-one guns and mortars were disabled, and the two supporting batteries also suffered heavily. The barracks were set on fire, and the whole place was soon in flames. Gradually the Russian fire ceased, and for some time only one gun was able to answer the tremendous fire poured in upon them.

At last, finding the impossibility of further resistance, the officer in command hoisted the white flag. The fort on the opposite shore was blown up by the Russians, and the fleet entered the channel. The troops were landed, and Kinburn occupied, and held until the end of the war, and the fleet, after a reconnaissance made by a few gun-boats up the Dneiper, returned to Sebastopol.

The winter was very dull. Exchanges of shots continued daily between the north and south side, but with this exception hostilities were virtually suspended; the chief incident being a tremendous explosion of a magazine in the centre of the camp, shaking the country for miles away, and causing a loss to the French of six officers killed and thirteen wounded, and sixty-five men killed and 170 wounded, while seventeen English were killed, and sixty-nine wounded. No less than 250,000 pounds of gunpowder exploded, together with mounds of shells, carcasses and small ammunition. Hundreds of rockets rushed through the air, shells burst in all directions over the camp, and boxes of small ammunition exploded in every direction. The ships in the harbors of Balaklava and Kamiesch rocked under the explosion. Mules and horses seven or eight miles away broke loose and galloped across the country wild with fright, while a shower of fragments fell over a circle six miles in diameter.

On the last day of February the news came that an armistice had been concluded. The negotiations continued for some time before peace was finally signed. But the war was at an end, and a few days after the armistice was signed the "Falcon" was ordered to England, to the great delight of all on board, who were heartily sick of the long period of inaction.



CHAPTER XXVI.

CONCLUSION

The "Falcon" experienced pleasant weather until passing the Straits of Gibraltar. Then a heavy gale set in, and for many days she struggled with the tempest, whose fury was so great that for several hours she was in imminent danger of foundering.

At last, however, the weather cleared, and two days later the "Falcon" cast anchor at Spithead. The next day the crew were paid off, and the vessel taken into dock for much-needed repairs.

Jack's father had already come down to Portsmouth, on the receipt of his letter announcing his arrival. The day after the ship was paid off they returned home, and Jack received a joyful greeting from his family. They found him wonderfully grown and aged during the two years of his absence. Whereas before he had promised to be short, he was now above middle height. His shoulders were broad and square, his face bronzed by sun and wind, and it was not till they heard his merry laugh that they quite recognized the Jack who had left them.

He soon went down to the town and looked up his former schoolfellows, and even called upon his old class-master, and ended a long chat by expressing his earnest hope that the boys at present in his form were better at their verses than he had been.

A month later Harry, who had quite recovered, joined the circle, having obtained leave, and the two young fellows were the heroes of a number of balls and parties given by the major and his friends to celebrate their return.

Six months later Jack was again appointed to a berth in a fine frigate, commanded by his cousin. The ship was ordered to the China seas, where she remained until, at the outbreak of the Indian Mutiny, she was sent to Calcutta. On their arrival there Jack found that Captain Peel, under whom he had served before Sebastopol, was organizing a naval brigade for service ashore. Jack at once waited upon him, and begged to be allowed to join the brigade. His request was complied with, and as he had now nearly served his time and passed his examination he received an appointment as acting lieutenant, obtaining the full rank after the fight in which the brigade were engaged on their march up to Cawnpore. He was present at the tremendous struggle when the relieving force under Lord Clyde burst its way into Lucknow and carried off the garrison, and also at the final crushing out of the rebellion at that spot.

At the conclusion of the war he rejoined his ship, and returned with her when she finally left the station for England, after an absence of five years. He was now three-and-twenty, and having been twice mentioned in despatches, was looked upon as a rising young officer.

A month or two after his return he received a letter from Count Preskoff, with whom he had, at intervals corresponded ever since his escape from captivity. The count said that he, with the countess and his youngest daughter, Olga, were at present in Paris. The two elder girls had been for some years married. The count said that he intended, after making a stay for some time in Paris, to visit England, but invited Jack to come over to pay them a visit in Paris. Jack gladly assented, and a few days later joined his Russian friends at the Hotel Meurice, in the Rue Rivoli. They received him with the greatest warmth, and he was soon upon his old terms of familiarity with them. He found, to his great pleasure, that Olga could now speak English fluently, and as he had forgotten a good deal of his Russian, and had learned no French, she often acted as interpreter between him and her parents. Jack's Russian, however, soon returned to him, and at the end of a fortnight he was able to converse fluently in it again.

He found Olga very little altered, but she, on her part, protested that she should not have known him again. He had thought very often of her during the years which had passed, but although he had steadfastly clung to the determination he had expressed to his friend Hawtry, of some day marrying her if she would have him, he was now more alive than before to the difference between her position and his. The splendid apartments occupied by the count, his unlimited expenditure, the beauty of his carriages and horses, all showed Jack the difference between a great Russian seigneur and a lieutenant on half-pay. Feeling that he was becoming more and more in love with Olga, he determined to make some excuse to leave Paris, intending upon his return to apply at once to be sent on active service.

One morning, accordingly, when alone with the count, he said to him that he feared he should have to leave for England in a few days, and it was probable he should shortly join his ship.

The count looked keenly at him.

"My young friend," he said, "have we been making a mistake? The countess and I have thought that you were attached to our daughter."

"I am so, assuredly," Jack said. "I love your daughter with all my heart, and have loved her ever since I left her in Russia. But I am older now. I recognize the difference of position between a penniless English lieutenant and a great Russian heiress, and it is because I feel this so strongly that I am thinking that it is best for my own peace of mind to leave Paris at once, and to return to England and to embark on service again as soon as possible."

"But how about Olga's happiness?" the count said, smiling.

"I dare not think, sir," Jack said, "that it is concerned in the matter."

"I fear, my young friend, that it is concerned, and seriously. When you left us in Russia, Olga announced to her mother that she intended to marry you some day, if you ever came back to ask her. Although I would, I confess, have rather that she had married a Russian, I had so great an esteem and affection for you, and owed you so much, that her mother and myself determined not to thwart her inclination, but to leave the matter to time. Olga devoted herself to the study of English. She has, since she grew up, refused many excellent offers, and when her mother has spoken to her on the subject, her only answer has been, 'Mamma, you know I chose long ago.' It was to see whether you also remained true to the affection which Olga believed you gave her, that we have travelled west, and now that I find you are both of one mind, you are talking of leaving us and going to sea."

"Oh, sir," Jack exclaimed, delighted, "do you really mean that you give me permission to ask for your daughter's hand!"

"Certainly I do, Jack," the count replied. "I am quite sure that I can trust her happiness implicitly to you. The fact that you have nothing but your pay, matters very little. Olga will have abundance for both, and I only bargain that you bring her over to Russia every year, for two or three months, to stay with us. You will, of course, my boy, give up the sea. Now," he said, "that you have got my consent, you had better ask Olga's."

Jack found that the count had not spoken too confidently as to the state of Olga's feelings towards him, and a month later a gay wedding took place at St. James' Church, the count and his wife staying at the Bristol Hotel, and Jack's father, mother, and elder brother and sisters coming up to the wedding. To Jack's great pleasure, he happened to meet in the streets of London, two or three days before his wedding, his friend Hawtry, whom he had not seen since they parted on the Polish frontier, as their ships had never happened to be on the same station. Hawtry was rejoiced to hear of his friend's good fortune, and officiated at the wedding as Jack's best man.

A handsome estate in Sussex was purchased by the count, and this, with the revenues of the estate in Poland, were settled upon her at her marriage. There does not exist, at present, a happier couple in England than Mr. and Mrs. Archer; for Olga refused to retain her title of countess. Except when, at times, the cares of a young family prevented their leaving home, they have, since their marriage, paid a visit every year to Russia.

The count and countess are still alive, although now far advanced in life. The count is still hoping for the reforms which he believed thirty years ago would do so much for Russia, but he acknowledges that the fulfilment of his hopes appears to be as far off now as it was then.

Hawtry is now an admiral, but is still a bachelor, and he generally spends Christmas with his old comrade, Jack Archer.

THE END