"Why, what the devil's this?" cried Cockle.

Moonshine made no answer, but went out and in until he had brought six ankers in, one after another, which he placed in a row on the floor. He then shut the outside door, bolted it, came in, and seating himself on one of the tubs, laughed to an excess which compelled him to hold his sides; during which Cockle and I were in a state of astonishment and suspense.

"Where the devil did all this come from?" cried Cockle, actually getting out of his easy chair. "Tell me, sir, or by——"

"I tell you all, Massa Cockle:—you find me better friend dan Missy O'Bottom. Now you ab plenty, and nebber need scold Moonshine 'pose he take lilly drap. I get all dis present to you, Massa Cockle."

I felt a great degree of anxiety, and pressed Moonshine to tell his story.

"I tell you all, sar. When I come back wid de two bottel I meet plenty men wid de tubs: dey say, 'Hollo there, who be you?' I say, 'I come from station; bring massa two bottel, and I show um.' Den dey say, 'Where you massa?' and I say, 'At um house at Ryde'—(den dey tink dat you my massa, Massa Farren)—so dey say, 'Yes, we know dat, we watch him dere, but now you tell, so we beat you dead.' Den I say, 'What for dat; massa like drink, why you no gib massa some tub, and den he never say noting, only make fuss some time, 'cause of Admirality.' Den dey say, 'You sure of dat?' and I say, 'Quite sure massa nebber say one word.' Den dey talk long while; last, dey come and say, 'You come wid us and show massa house.' So two men come wid me, and when dey come to gate I say, 'Dis massa house when he live at Ryde, and dere you see massa;'—and I point to Massa Cockle, but dey see Massa Farren—so dey say, 'All very good; tree, four hour more, you find six tub here; tell you massa dat every time run tub, he alway hab six;' den dey go way, den dey come back, leave tub; dat all, massa."

"You rascal!" exclaimed I, rising up, "so you have compromised me; why I shall lose my commission if found out."

"No, sar; nobody wrong but de smuggler; dey make a lilly mistake; case you brought to court-martial, I gib evidence, and den I clear you."

"But what must we do with these tubs, Cockle?" said I, appealing to him.

"Do, Bob?—why, they are a present—a very welcome one, and a very handsome one into the bargain. I shall not keep them, I pledge you my word; let that satisfy you—they shall all be fairly entered."

"Upon that condition, Cockle," I replied, "I shall of course not give information against you." (I knew full well what he meant by saying he would not keep them.)

"How I do, Massa Cockle," said Moonshine, with a grave face; "I take um to the custom-house to-night or to-morrow marning."

"To-morrow, Moonshine," replied Cockle; "at present just put them out of sight."

I did not think it prudent to make any further inquiries; but I afterwards discovered that the smugglers, true to their word, and still in error, continued to leave six tubs in old Cockle's garden whenever they succeeded in running a cargo, which, notwithstanding all our endeavours, they constantly did. One piece of information I gained from this affair, which was, the numbers of cargoes which were run compared to those which were seized during the remainder of the time I was on that station, and found it to be in the proportion of ten to one. The cargoes run were calculated by the observations of old Cockle, who, when I called upon him, used to say very quietly, "I shouldn't wonder if they did not run a cargo last night, Bob, in spite of all your vigilance—was it very dark?"

"On the contrary," replied I, looking at the demure face of the negro; "I suspect it was Moonshine."



The Fairy's Wand

A TALE OF WINDSOR PARK IN THE DAYS OF THE MERRY MONARCH

In the time of Charles II., Windsor Park stood just where it stands now, and the castle of Windsor was very often the abode of royalty, as it is now; but in those merry, but licentious times, there was much more fun and feasting going on than perhaps there is at present. Rochester was master of the revels, and the Countesses of —— but I will say nothing about the ladies, although some of the highest of our aristocracy are descended from them. There were great preparations in the castle, for King Charles had invited down the Mayor of London, and a bevy of aldermen; not so much with a view of doing honour to the magistrates of the great and ancient city, as with the hope to extract some amusement from their peculiarities.

The fact is, that the Mayor and aldermen of London had certified to the Earl of Rochester, that they had some complaint to make and some favour to request of his Majesty. Rochester, ever willing to procure amusement for his royal master, at the same time was equally careful not to allow him to be annoyed, and therefore had contrived to ferret out that the complaint against the lords of the court, was for their foo great familiarity with the citizens' wives, and that the favour to be demanded was, a curtailment of the dress, ornaments, and expensive habits of the city ladies.—He considered this a very favourable opportunity for procuring some mirth at the expense of the corporation.

With the consent of the king, he had intimated to the mayor and aldermen, that they would be received in the evening, and honoured with a seat at the royal banquet; and at the same time he had privately made known to the lady mayoress, what were the demands about to be made by her husband, desiring her to communicate the same, under a strict promise of secrecy, to the wives of all the aldermen; and also acquainting them that his Majesty would be glad to receive the ladies on the same evening, provided that they could come without the knowledge of their husbands, which might be done by their setting off for Windsor some short time after them. It was the intention of the king, that when the mayor and corporation should present the address, they should be met face to face by their wives, and thus issue be joined.

But mortals were not the only parties who revelled in the beauties of the park of Windsor.

On the evening that this comedy was about to be enacted, there reclined under the celebrated oak, known as Herne's Oak, in a small clear space between some ferns, two of those beings called fairies who had for time immemorial taken up their quarters in that delightful retreat. Whether they were man and wife is not established, but certainly they were male and female; and as they appeared to be on the very best understanding, it is to be presumed that they were not married.

"Elda, there will be a scene to-night at the castle," said the male to the female sprite, as he tickled her nose with a blade of grass.

"Yes, Maya; how foolish those mortals are!"

"I have a mind to create even more mischief," rejoined Maya, "but if I did, you would want to see it."

"Well, and suppose I did, dearest?"

"I do not like that you should be in company with those women, Elda; those duchesses and countesses."

"Bless me, Maya!—what are you afraid of? my virtue?"

"Oh no, dearest! I did not mean that——"

"Then I'll tell you what you did mean, you jealous-pated fool: you meant, that you did not like that I should be in the company of the Earl of Rochester and the King. You ought to have more respect for yourself, and more respect for me, than to be jealous of those mortals."

"Nay, Elda!"

"Yes, yes, and your reason for wanting to go alone, is to hang over that nasty Duchess of Portsmouth."

"Upon my honour!—"

"Your honour, sir!—you have none—there, sir, you may go."

"Oh, very well, madam; just as you please."

Certainly there was something very mortal in this quarrel, and may remind the reader of similar scenes in domestic life.

It ended by Maya walking sulkily away in the direction of the castle, and of Elda following him at a distance, determined to watch his motions.

But if these two lovers had quarrelled, there were two other beings who were indulging in a moonlight walk on the terrace, linked arm-in-arm so affectionately, so fondly, keeping exact pace for pace, and occasionally embracing each other, every one would have thought that nothing in the world could ever have disunited them. They were two young ladies of the court, aged about seventeen, just clear of their governess and bread-and-butter, and newly-appointed maids of honour: they were both beautiful, and had contracted a friendship, as all girls do at that age, when love has with them no precise definition. They had sworn eternal affection after an acquaintance of eight-and-forty hours—the sun and the moon, and all the stars in the firmament—heaven above, the earth below, and everything below that again, had all been summoned to register their vows; and at the time that they were then walking they would have considered it positive heresy to hint at the idea of a disagreement even in thought; but, as I have before observed, they were only seventeen years old.

Maya, who had bent his steps towards the castle, perceived these two young damsels parading up and down, and although he had not the full power of Oberon, yet he was still a highly-endowed fairy. Among other powers vested in him, he had a wand, which when it touched any fairy would change that fairy into mortal size and shape, and if it touched any mortal would produce the contrary effect, giving them for the time the size and appearance of fairies, imps, tritons, naiads, or some of those intermediate creatures, which most accorded with their mortal propensities and dispositions.

This very wand made him much feared by the other fairies, as they were often punished by him in this way, and it was only Oberon, the king, who had the power of reversing the charm; and it is said, that this very wand was one cause why his fair Elda, generally speaking, behaved so well, as he often threatened to turn her into a Dutch milkmaid; which, as she was of a very beautiful figure, would have been a very severe punishment.

It was with this wand—worn like a harlequin's at his side—that the fairy Maya was walking up the terrace; he had changed himself to a handsome young forester, dressed in a suit of green, with bugle by his side, a cap with black feathers hanging down to his right shoulder; wearing the appearance of a very handsome young man of about twenty, and just the description of person to create a difference between two young ladies, who had half an hour before sworn everlasting friendship.

As he passed he made a very profound obeisance.

"Who is he, dearest?" said Miss Araminta.

"Who is he, dearest?" said Miss Euthanasia, both nudging one another at the same moment.

"He bowed to me, said Araminta.

"No, sweetest, it was to me he bowed," rejoined Euthanasia.

"Well I declare!" cried Araminta. What was to follow is not known, for the young forester had retraced his steps and now addressed the young ladies.

"Fair maids of honour, as I presume you are such," said he, taking off his cap, and displaying such handsome curls that each young lady, for the first time, thought how much better it had been if she had walked out alone, "may I inquire the cause of such revelry to-night in the royal castle?"

"The king entertains—" said Araminta.

"The mayor and aldermen," cried Euthanasia, taking the remainder of the sentence out of her friend's mouth.

"Indeed!" replied the fairy, who then entered into conversation with the young ladies, dividing his attentions as equally as he could.

Now it so happened that Elda, who had followed Maya at a distance, could no longer restrain her jealousy when she perceived him walking and talking so earnestly, and, as she considered, really making love to these fair mortals. She took the shape of a big bumble bee, and flying to him settled on his back, stinging him so severely that he uttered an exclamation of pain; and the young ladies were tenderly enquiring where he was hurt, when he felt convinced that it was Elda who had thus punished him. Fairies have consciences as well as mortals. Maya felt that he was, or what was quite as bad, that he appeared to be, guilty. He had already repented of his quarrel with Elda; and, after receiving the condolence of the two young ladies, who vied in their attentions to him, he very suddenly took leave, resolving in his own mind that he would seek out Elda, and make friends with her, infinitely preferring her to two young bread-and-butter maids of honour. Thus did the fairy prove his good sense, and abandon all idea of making mischief at the castle.

Now it so happened that the sting received from the jealous Elda was so very severe, that in his jump forward Maya had allowed his wand to drop out of his belt, and when he departed he did not perceive his loss. There it lay on the terrace, between the two young maids of honour, who already had discovered that their eternal friendship was on the wane. They both remained silent and watching the receding figure of the handsome young forester for at least a minute and a half. At last this unheard-of duration of silence between two young ladies who had sworn eternal friendship was broken. It proved to be like the calm which precedes the tornado.

"Well, I am sure!" cried Euthanasia.

"I shouldn't wonder," replied Araminta.

"Courtly manners, indeed!" continued Euthanasia.

"Yes, you may say that; no wonder he wouldn't stay," responded Araminta, tossing her head.

"No; when you drove him away, miss."

"Me, miss?"

"Yes, you, miss."

"No, miss."

"Yes, miss."

I regret to report the scene which followed. After trying hard to drown each other's voices, the two young maids of honour, who had sworn eternal friendship, commenced pushing, then spitting, then slapping, then beating. Then they pulled each other's hair—then—yes, then Araminta perceived the wand lying on the terrace, and she seized it with the intention of chastising Euthanasia; and Euthanasia perceiving her intention, seized hold of the other end of the wand. A struggle took place, which ended in the wand breaking in half. Then they separated, Araminta throwing her half at her dearest friend, her dearest friend returning the compliment; after which, they both ran home to the castle, vowing that nothing should ever induce them even to speak one single word to each other as long as they lived. We must leave them to go to their rooms, wash their pretty faces, and repair the damage done to their dresses, while we inform the reader of what is going on in the reception-room of the castle.

The mayor and corporation had duly arrived, and had been ushered into a private room until his Majesty should be ready to receive them. The Earl of Rochester had detained them there purposely to give time for the arrival of the ladies of the corporation, who were by his directions received at a private door. The king, amused with the scheme, allowed Rochester to make his arrangements. When all was ready, the mayor and aldermen, who had been very comfortably regaled with sherry and biscuits, so that the time did not appear too tedious, were requested to enter the presence-chamber, where the king received them in due form. The mayor, approaching the throne, knelt down and laid at his Majesty's feet the petition, which he was requested by the king to read.

The preamble set forth that the young nobility of the day were not content with the pleasures of the court, but were in the custom of entering the city on the other side of Temple-bar, creating disturbances, and visiting the wives of his Majesty's dutiful citizens, giving much cause for scandal, "and requesting that in future his Majesty would be pleased to give directions that the nobility should not enter the city without the permission of the corporation, as such would prove most advantageous to the morals of the community."

"Hah!" observed his Majesty, "how is this, my Lord of Rochester? Do our young gallants create disturbances with our good citizens? This must be looked to."

"May it please your Majesty," replied the Earl of Rochester, "assertion is not proof. Here are now twenty-five of the wealthiest citizens of London present, and on their knees before you—they have twenty-five wives—is there any one who will accuse his wife, or his neighbour's wife, of listening to the nonsense of these young nobles? Either they must listen to them, or, if they do not listen to them, there is no harm done."

"Very true," replied the king. "Say, Mr Mayor, where are your proofs of what you have now asserted?"

"May it please your Majesty, women are women," replied the mayor.

"I believe we may admit that, your Majesty," rejoined Rochester, with a smile.

"Yes. In that point I agree with Mr Mayor—go on. What further does this petition contain?"

"A request that your Majesty will pass some law by which our city dames may be prevented from vying in expense with those of the court—to forbid stuffs of gold, or Genoa velvet, to be worn by them—and all ornaments of too high price—which are not suitable to our condition as simple artisans, and very ruinous to our pockets."

"May it please your Majesty, as any man can legislate for his own household, I think this last clause quite unnecessary. If the good citizens of London cannot afford to pay for such finery they must prevent their wives from purchasing it."

"That is very true," observed his Majesty; "you must prevent it yourselves."

"May it please your Majesty, we cannot," exclaimed the whole deputation, with one voice.

"Well, this is a very serious affair," replied the king, "and it must be laid before a special privy-council. Are you prepared to prove before the council, when you are called on, that your wives have been guilty of listening to these young gallants—have received them, and admitted their familiarities—say, Mr Mayor, and gentlemen, are you prepared to prove this?"

"All are prepared and ready to swear to it," replied the deputation.

"Well then, Mr Mayor, you will have the goodness to retire for a short time while I consult with my council, which I shall immediately summon; and if the facts are as you say, and you prove them, your petition shall be attended to."

The mayor and aldermen, delighted at this gracious reply, rose and humbly backed out of the presence-chamber. As soon as they had retired, the lady mayoress and all the aldermen's wives were ushered in, requested by his Majesty to be seated on chairs ranged round the throne, and thus was formed King Charles' special council. Rochester read the petition in a merry way, and then his Majesty requested the lady mayoress, as first in rank, to give her opinion.

"May it please your Majesty," said the mayoress, "it is very true that many of the young nobility do come within the city walls and prove good customers to our husbands. As for disturbances, I never heard of any, for our husbands are peaceable men; and as for their paying attention to the ladies, it is in my opinion only paying a compliment to our husbands, as well as to ourselves."

"Very well argued," replied the king.—"Your opinion, madam, on this first point," continued the king, addressing himself to one of the aldermen's ladies.

"Pray, does your Majesty think it fair," replied the lady, who was very pretty, "that our husbands are to leave us all day long, to add to their heaps of money, which they care for more than they do for us, and that we are not to amuse ourselves in some way? Besides, it can't be wrong, for the king sets the example, and the king can do no wrong."

"May it please your Majesty, that last argument settles the point," observed Rochester; "and I believe I may say, that the whole council are of the same opinion."

The ladies bowed their heads in acquiescence.

"And now as to the other request contained in this petition, that the ladies shall not in future dress in gold stuff, Genoa velvet, and rich ornaments. What say you, ladies?"

"May it please your Majesty," observed an alderman's wife, who had been married a week, "aware of what was to come, we have already discussed the point between ourselves. It is admitted that our husbands leave us alone, and that we are justified in receiving the attentions of the young nobles who so honour us. Now if our husbands stayed with us, and kept us company, we would dress to please them; but as they do not, and we are indebted to others for society, why we must dress accordingly. Courtiers require the splendour of the court, and it is our duty to study to please them, and our husbands' duty to accede to it, as a return for the compliments paid to us."

"This is remarkably good logic, Sire," observed Rochester. "I doubt whether you ever summoned a more wise council."

"A more delightful one, never," replied the king, bowing to the ladies.

"Now we will, if you please, summon in the lord mayor and deputation; and if they are willing, as they say they are, to prove——"

"Yes, if—" rejoined the lady mayoress; and all the other ladies replied, "Yes, if——"

In a few minutes the deputation made its appearance: the mayor and his colleagues entered the room with joyful anticipations, and fully prepared to prove all that their petition asserted; but what was their dismay when they all beheld their own wives, dressed in stuffs of gold, and Genoa velvet, arranged in a circle round the throne, their eyes flashing fire, and their fans moving with a rapidity that was ever the precursor of a storm. Each dame had singled out her husband, fixed her eyes upon him, and every lord and master had quailed at their lightning flashes. They tottered, rather than walked, up to the throne, and when they again went down upon their knees, each one involuntarily turned round to the direction where his own wife was seated, as if to deprecate her wrath and implore her pardon.

The king bit his lips to control his laughter; Rochester stuffed his handkerchief into his mouth.

"Mr Mayor and gentlemen," said the king, after he had somewhat recovered himself, "I have, as you perceive, summoned a special council to consult on this case; and it has been the decision of the council, that you should now produce these proofs, which you but just now stated you were prepared and willing to do. Mr Mayor, you may proceed, we are all attention."

"May it—please your—ladyship," stammered the mayor.

"It does not please her ladyship," replied the lady mayoress, fanning herself furiously.

"I meant—his Majesty—I would have said—I have no proofs myself to bring forward—but my colleagues are, I believe, well prepared."

"Indeed, Mr Mayor, is it possible that I mistook you? You have no proofs? Well then, who are the other gentlemen who are to bring forward the proofs?"

The deputation answered not.

"My Lord of Rochester, oblige me by putting the question separately to each of these gentlemen."

The question was put, but not one of the deputation had a proof to bring forward.

"By the mass, but this is strange!" said the king. "But an hour ago they all had proofs, and now they have not one. This is trifling with us, Mr Mayor—an insult to the throne and council. Speak, sir, what means this?"

"May it please your Majesty—it means—that we beg pardon of your Majesty—and of the special council."

"And your petition?"

"Is withdrawn, if it so please your Majesty," said the mayor, looking round to the aldermen.

"Yes, your Majesty, is withdrawn."

"For myself, Mr Mayor, I accept your excuses, and you have my pardon; but as for the special council, I must leave you to settle with it how you can.—Ladies, a banquet is prepared; when summoned, it will depend upon yourselves, whether you come alone or attended by the mayor and deputation. Come, my Lord of Rochester, we will not interfere in the arrangements, which will take place better when we are out of the way."

So saying, the king quitted the presence-chamber with the Earl of Rochester, leaving the ladies seated, and their husbands still kneeling. We shall not dwell upon what took place after the departure of the king; one thing is certain, that the fair sex are very merciful, and as their husbands promised them that in future they should have their own way, dress as they pleased, receive whom they pleased, and spend what money they pleased, the ladies very kindly and magnanimously forgave their spouses; and when they were summoned to the banquet, each lady entered the hall, hanging on the arm of her husband.

This happy reconciliation was duly celebrated. Wine flowed, bumper after bumper was drank, pledge succeeded to pledge, and it was long past midnight before the carouse was over. The moon shone bright, and heated with the wine, Rochester proposed to the ladies that they should take a walk on the terrace before they ordered their carriages to go home. It must be confessed that the ladies had not been so cautious as they ought to have been, and that their steps were not very steady; but could a lady refuse to drink wine with a king or an Earl of Rochester? No! and the consequence was, that they all were merry, and some of them more than merry. As for the husbands, they were reeling and tumbling in all directions, and the terrace-wall, wide as it was, was not sufficiently wide for them. Rochester led the way, and all was fun and merry laughter.

The party had not proceeded far, when a little altercation took place between the mayoress and the alderman's wife who had given her opinion after her in the council; for it so happened that as they sauntered along, the mayoress had picked up one portion of the broken wand, and the alderman's lady the other. The wand was of ebony, and highly polished—each would possess herself of the half in the hands of the other, and thus commenced the dispute; and it ended, as all disputes between ladies will end, if they happen to have a stick in their hands when they quarrel, by their beating each other. The mayoress gave the alderman's wife a slap with her part of the wand—it was immediately returned—when lo and behold——

It must be here explained, that although the wand when entire had the power of changing people as we have described, yet when broken, its power was divided between the two parts; the one end retaining its half power of changing only the upper portion of the figure, while the other could only change the lower half.

The blows were exchanged. The mayoress, who was a tall woman, immediately sank down a foot and a half, the upper portion of her plump body was now resting upon the two diminutive legs of a two-feet-high fairy—which could only make a stride of six inches at a time. The alderman's lady, on the contrary, retained her lower portion of her body; but instead of her lovely face, and graceful neck, she carried a little round head and shoulders, such as is represented in the figure of Puck. They must all have been very tipsy, for the others thought that they had put on masquerade dresses—the sticks were seized, one by Rochester, the other by the king, and they struck right and left—the lord mayor had the head and beard of a satyr—Rochester had the feet of a goat—the king appeared to have the bust of a beautiful woman, with a pair of splendid blue gossamer wings to his shoulders—one of the aldermen found himself with a naiad's tail, and he fell flat on the terrace, with great violence; all of them, men and women, were transformed into some shape or another—and the more strange the metamorphosis, the louder they all laughed and shouted. Some indeed were very much alarmed; particularly one little woman, who whispered to her neighbour, that she believed she was a little man.

But the scene did not end here: the two parts of the wand found their way into other hands, who as they capered and jumped beat their companions. King Charles, struck by the lower part of the wand, found his transformation complete—he was now a lovely woman;—Rochester was turned by a blow, into a perfect satyr—while the mayoress, struck by the same portion, sank down into a little fairy not two feet high. As the sticks were passed round there was no end to the transformations: the fat alderman who had fallen down with a fish's tail, now became a perfect naiad, with long hair, and a comb in his hand. Such was the noise and confusion, that the two little maids of honour came out on the terrace to witness this strange revelling. Rochester seized them and kissed them as they screamed with fright at his shaggy beard—the wand was applied to them, and they too were transformed. The Duchess of Portsmouth opened her chamber-window, and perceiving the wild revelling resolved to indulge his Majesty with a good curtain-lecture; but he heard her not.

"To the oak of Herne the hunter," cried the king; "away to the oak!"

"To the oak! to the oak!" shouted the whole bacchanalian crew; and away they flew across the park, starting the quiescent deer with their shouts, their laughter, and their revelry. Rochester took the naiad under his arm, that she might not be left behind, and dancing, capering, tumbling, and getting up again, led by the merry king, who now was a beautiful fairy, they arrived there out of breath.

But before they had reached the oak, their noise had disturbed the slumber of one happy pair who had nestled in each other's arms among the fern.

It was Maya and Elda—who had met, and had been reconciled, proving that with fairies, the quarrels of lovers are but the renewal of love; not the case, although supposed to be so, with us mortals. Maya had missed his wand, but he would not leave Elda to return for it—he intended to have searched for it the next morning.

"What is all that noise, dearest?" cried Elda, waking up and resting on her elbow, as she listened.

"What can it be, but the mad king at his pranks as usual?" replied Maya, who had risen on his feet. "But what is here? I see—I see how it is—they have found my wand and must have broken it; for it does not otherwise do things by halves."

As Maya said this, the king with his companions arrived under the oak-tree—Elda retired to a distance, while Maya soon regained the two parts of his wand from the hands of the intoxicated parties, who had possession of them.

"I shall have work to-night, and must repair this mischief," said Maya. "Elda, dearest, hasten and bring me poppy-juice to seal up the eyes of these mad people."

In a few minutes Elda had executed her commission; the whole company were now seated in a circle, singing songs, hugging one another, all merry but the two little maids of honour, who not having taken wine, were horrified at the transformation—they sat together and cried as if their little hearts would break.

Maya pressed the poppy-juice on the eyes of each individual, and in a few seconds they were all in a profound sleep. He then examined the transformations, and completed those which were partial above or below—till then he could not repair his wand. When they were all transformed, he put the two parts of his wand together, breathed upon them, and the wand was reunited. He then went round the circle, touched each person, and the whole company resumed their original forms.

"So far have I done my part," observed Maya. "As for colds, catarrhs, fevers, agues, they deserve all they may catch. Now, Elda, let us once more retire to rest."

The leaves of the old oak-tree were gilded with the rays of the morning sun, before King Charles and his companions awoke, and very much astonished they were to find themselves in such a place and at such an hour—the ladies blushed and canvassed the affair among themselves—they recollected the transformations, they remembered their setting off for the Hunter's Oak—but still they were confused. The mayor and aldermen were puzzled—not so much at finding themselves asleep under the tree, but that their wives should be there also. The king and Rochester were the only two who appeared indifferent.

"Come, ladies—come, my lord mayor and gentlemen of the corporation, we have had a merry night of it, and have slept under the greenwood tree, now let us in to the toilet, and then to breakfast."

He offered his arm to the lady mayoress, the rest of the company followed—they hastened to the toilet—they ate their breakfasts, and then hastened back to the good city of London.

"Well," said the king, as soon as the company had departed, "what think you of this, Rochester—were we visited by the fairies last night, think you?"

"May it please your Majesty," replied the earl, "my opinion is that either we were in the hands of the fairies, or else——"

"Else what?"

"Or else, Sire, we were all most confoundedly drunk."



A Rencontre

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 subsequent 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 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 near 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, for which I had booked myself, there was one female already seated: and women and cigars are such great luxuries in their respective ways, that they are not to be indulged in at one and the same time—the world would be too happy, and happiness, we are told, is not for us here below. Not that I agree with that moral, although it comes from very high authority;—there is a great deal of happiness in this world, if you knew how to extract it; or rather, I should say, of pleasure: there is a pleasure in doing good; there is a pleasure, unfortunately, in doing wrong; there is a pleasure in looking forward, ay, and in looking backward also; there is pleasure in loving and being loved, in eating, in drinking, and though last, not least, in smoking. I do not mean to say that there are not the drawbacks of pain, regret, and even remorse; but there is a sort of pleasure even in them: it is pleasant to repent, because you know that you are doing your duty; and if there is no great pleasure in pain, it precedes an excess when it has left you. I say again, that, if you know how to extract it, there is a great deal of pleasure and of happiness in this world, especially if you have, as I have, a very bad memory.

"'Allons, Messieurs!' said the conducteur; and when I got in I found myself the sixth person, and opposite to the lady; for all the other passengers were of my own sex. Having fixed our hats up to the roof, wriggled and twisted a little so as to get rid of coat-tails, etc., all of which was effected previous to our having cleared Rue Notre Dame des Victoires, we began to scrutinise each other. Our female companion's veil was down and doubled, so that I could not well make her out; my other four companions were young men, all Frenchmen, apparently good-tempered, and inclined to be agreeable. A few seconds were sufficient for my reconnoitre of the gentlemen, and then my eyes were naturally turned towards the lady. She was muffled up in a winter cloak, so that her figure was not to be made out; and the veil still fell down before her face, so that only one cheek and a portion of her chin could be deciphered:—that fragment of her physiognomy was very pretty, and I watched in silence for the removal of the veil.

"I have omitted to state that, before I got into the diligence, I saw her take a very tender adieu of a very handsome woman; but as her back was turned to me at the time, I did not see her face. She had now fallen back in her seat, and seemed disposed to commune with her own thoughts: that did not suit my views, which were to have a view of her face. Real politeness would have induced me to have left her to herself, but pretended politeness was resorted to that I might gratify my curiosity; so I inquired if she wished the window up. The answer was in the negative, and in a very sweet voice; and then there was a pause, of course—so I tried again.

"'You are melancholy at parting with your handsome sister,' observed I, leaning forward with as much appearance of interest as I could put into my beautiful phiz.

"'How could you have presumed that she was my sister?' replied she.

"'From the strong family likeness,' rejoined I, 'I felt certain of it.'

"'But she is only my sister-in-law, sir—my brother's wife.'

"'Then, I presume, he chose a wife as like his sister as he could find: nothing more natural—I should have done the same.'

"'Sir you are very polite,' replied the lady, who lowered down the window, adding, 'I like fresh air.'

"'Perhaps you will find yourself less incommoded if you take off your veil?'

"'I will not ascribe that proposition to curiosity on your part, sir,' replied the lady, 'as you have already seen my face.'

"'You cannot, then, be surprised at my wishing to see it once more.'

"'You are very polite, sir.'

"Although her voice was soft, there was a certain quickness and decision in her manner and language which were very remarkable. The other passengers now addressed her, and the conversation became general. The veiled lady took her share in it, and showed a great deal of smartness and repartee. In an hour more we were all very intimate. As we changed horses, I took down my hat to put into it my cigar-case, which I had left in my pocket, upon which the lady observed, 'You smoke, I perceive; and so, I dare say, do all the rest of the gentlemen.—Now, do not mind me; I am fond of the smell of tobacco—I am used to it.'

"We hesitated.

"'Nay, more, I smoke myself, and will take a cigar with you.'

"This was decisive. I offered my cigar-case—another gentleman struck a light. Lifting up her veil so as to show a very pretty mouth, with teeth as white as snow, she put the cigar in her mouth, and set us the example. In a minute both windows were down, and every one had a cigar in his mouth.

"'Where did you learn to smoke, madam?' was a question put to the incognita by the passenger who sat next to her.

"'Where?—In the camp—Africa—everywhere. I did belong to the army—that is, my husband was one of the captains of the 47th. He was killed, poor man! in the last successful expedition to Constantine:—c'etait un brave homme.'

"'Indeed! Were you at Constantine?'

"'Yes, I was; I followed the army during the whole campaign.'

"The diligence stopped for supper or dinner, whichever it might be considered, and the conducteur threw open the doors. 'Now,' thought I, 'we shall see her face,' and so, I believe, thought the other passengers: but we were mistaken; the lady went upstairs and had a basin of soup taken to her. When all was ready we found her in the diligence, with her veil down as before.

"This was very provoking, for she was so lively and witty in conversation, and the features of her face which had been disclosed were so perfect, that I was really quite on a fret that she would leave me without satisfying my curiosity:—they talk of woman's curiosity, but we men have as much, after all. It became dark;—the lady evidently avoided further conversation, and we all composed ourselves as well as we could. It may be as well to state in few words, that the next morning she was as cautious and reserved as ever. The diligence arrived at this hotel—the passengers separated—and I found that the lady and I were the only two who took up our quarters there. At all events, the Frenchmen who travelled with us went away just as wise as they came.

"'You remain here?' inquired I as soon as we had got out of the diligence.

"'Yes,' replied she. 'And you—'

"'I remain here, certainly; but I hope you do not intend to remain always veiled. It is too cruel of you.'

"'I must go to my room now and make myself a little more comfortable; after that, Mons l'Anglais, I will speak to you. You are going over in the packet, I presume?'

"'I am: by to-morrow's packet.'

"'I shall put myself under your protection, for I am also going to London.'

"'I shall be most delighted.'

"'Au revoir.'

"About an hour afterwards a message was brought to me by the garcon, that the lady would be happy to receive me in No. 19. I ascended to the second floor, knocked, and was told to come in.

"She was now without a veil; and what do you think was her reason for the concealment of her person?"

"By the beard of Mokhanna, how can I tell?"

"Well, then, she had two of the most beautiful eyes in the world; her eyebrows were finely arched; her forehead was splendid; her mouth was tempting—in short, she was as pretty as you could wish a woman to be, only she had broken her nose—a thousand pities, for it must once have been a very handsome one. Well, to continue, I made my bow.

"'You perceive, now, sir,' said she, 'why I wore my veil down.'

"'No, indeed,' replied I.

"'You are very polite, or very blind,' rejoined she: 'the latter I believe not to be the fact. I did not choose to submit to the impertinence of my own countrymen in the diligence: they would have asked me a hundred questions upon my accident. But you are an Englishman, and have respect for a female who has been unfortunate.'

"'I trust I deserve your good opinion, madam; and if I can be in any way useful to you——'

"'You can. I shall be a stranger in England. I know that in London there is a great man, one Monsieur Lis-tong, who is very clever.'

"'Very true, madam. If your nose, instead of having been slightly injured as it is, had been left behind you in Africa, Mr Liston would have found you another.'

"'If he will only repair the old one, I ask no more. You give me hopes. But the bones are crushed completely, as you must see.'

"'That is of no consequence. Mr Liston has put a new eye in, to my knowledge. The party was short-sighted, and saw better with the one put in by Mr Liston, than with the one which had been left him.'

"'Est-il possible? Mais, quel homme extraordinaire! Perhaps you will do me the favour to sit with me, monsieur; and, if I mistake not, you have a request to make of me—n'est-ce pas?'

"'I feel such interest about you, madam, that I acknowledge, if it would not be too painful to you, I should like to ask a question.'

"'Which is, How did I break my nose?—Of course you want to know. And as it is the only return I can make for past or future obligations to you, you shall most certainly be gratified. I will not detain you now. I shall expect you to supper. Adieu, monsieur.'

"I did not, of course, fail in my appointment; and after supper she commenced:—

"'The question to be answered,' said she, 'is, How did you break your nose?—Is it not? Well, then, at least, I shall answer it after my own fashion. So, to begin at the beginning, I am now just twenty-two years old. My father was tambour-major in the Garde Imperiale. I was born in the camp—brought up in the camp—and, finally, I was married in the camp, to a lieutenant of infantry at the time. So that, you observe, I am altogether militaire. As a child, I was wakened up with the drum and fife, and went to sleep with the bugles; as a girl, I became quite conversant with every military manoeuvre; and now that I am a woman grown, I believe that I am more fit for the baton than one half of those marshals who have gained it. I have studied little else but tactics; and have, as my poor husband said, quite a genius for them—but of that hereafter. I was married at sixteen, and have ever since followed my husband. I followed him at last to his grave. He quitted my bed for the bed of honour, where he sleeps in peace. We'll drink to his memory.'

"We emptied our glasses, when she continued:—

"'My husband's regiment was not ordered to Africa until after the first disastrous attempt upon Constantine. It fell to our lot to assist in retrieving the honour of our army in the more successful expedition which took place, as you of course are aware, about three months ago. I will not detain you with our embarkation or voyage. We landed from a steamer at Bona, and soon afterwards my husband's company were ordered to escort a convoy of provisions to the army which were collecting at Mzez Ammar. Well, we arrived safely at our various camps of Drean, Nech Meya, and Amman Berda. We made a little detour to visit Ghelma. I had curiosity to see it, as formerly it was an important city. I must say that a more tenable position I never beheld. But I tire you with these details.'

"'On the contrary, I am delighted.'

"'You are very good. I ought to have said something about the travelling in these wild countries, which is anything but pleasant. The soil is a species of clay, hard as a flint when the weather is dry, but running into a slippery paste as soon as moistened. It is, therefore, very fatiguing, especially in wet weather, when the soldiers slip about, in a very laughable manner to look at, but very distressing to themselves. I travelled either on horseback or in one of the waggons, as it happened. I was too well known, and I hope I may add, too well liked, not to be as well provided for as possible. It is remarkable how soon a Frenchman will make himself comfortable, wherever he may chance to be. The camp of Mzez Ammar was as busy and as lively as if it was pitched in the heart of France. The followers had built up little cabins out of the branches of trees, with their leaves on, interwoven together, all in straight lines, forming streets, very commodious, and perfectly impervious to the withering sun. There were restaurants, cafes, debits de vin et eau-de-vie, sausage-sellers, butchers, grocers—in fact, there was every trade almost, and everything you required; not very cheap certainly, but you must recollect that this little town had sprung up, as if by magic, in the heart of the desert.

"'It was in the month of September that Damremont ordered a reconnaissance in the direction of Constantine, and a battalion of my husband's regiment, the 47th, was ordered to form a part of it. I have said nothing about my husband. He was a good little man, and a brave officer, full of honour, but very obstinate. He never would take advice, and it was nothing but "Tais-toi, Coralie," all day long—but no one is perfect. He wished me to remain in the camp, but I made it a rule never to be left behind. We set off, and I rode in one of the little carriages called cacolets, which had been provided for the wounded. It was terrible travelling, I was jolted to atoms in the ascent of the steep mountain called the Rass-el-akba; but we gained the summit without a shot being fired. When we arrived there, and looked down beneath us, the sight was very picturesque. There were about four or five thousand of the Arab cavalry awaiting our descent; their white bournous, as they term the long dresses in which they enfold themselves, waving in the wind as they galloped at full speed in every direction; while the glitter of their steel arms flashed like lightning upon your eyes. We closed our ranks and descended; the Arabs, in parties of forty or fifty, charging upon our flanks every minute, not coming to close conflict, but stopping at pistol-shot distance, discharging their guns and then wheeling off again to a distance—mere child's play, sir; nevertheless there were some of our men wounded, and the little waggon upon which I was riding was ordered up in the advance to take them in. Unfortunately, to keep clear of the troops, the driver kept too much on one side of the narrow defile through which we passed; the consequence was, that the waggon upset, and I was thrown out a considerable distance down the precipice——'

"'And broke your nose,' interrupted I.

"'No indeed, sir, I did not. I escaped with only a few contusions about the region of the hip, which certainly lamed me for some time, and made the jolting more disagreeable than ever. Well, the reconnaissance succeeded. Damremont was, however, wrong altogether. I told him so when I met him; but he was an obstinate old fool, and his answer was not as polite as it might have been, considering that at that time I was a very pretty woman. We returned to the camp at Mzez Ammar; a few days afterwards we were attacked by the Arabs, who showed great spirit and determination in their desultory mode of warfare, which, however, can make no impression on such troops as the French. The attack was continued for three days, when they decamped as suddenly as they had come. But this cannot be very interesting to you, monsieur.'

"'On the contrary, do not, I beg, leave out a single remark or incident.'

"'You are very good. I presume you know how we militaires like to fight our battles over again. Well, sir, we remained in camp until the arrival of the Duc de Nemours—a handsome, fair lad, who smiled upon me very graciously. On the 1st of October we set off on our expedition to Constantine; that is to say, the advanced guard did, of which my husband's company formed a portion. The weather which had been very fine, now changed, and it rained hard all the day. The whole road was one mass of mud, and there was no end to delays and accidents. However, the weather became fine again, and on the 5th we arrived within two leagues of Constantine, when the Arabs attacked us, and I was very nearly taken prisoner.'

"'Indeed!'

"'Yes; my husband, who, as I before observed to you, was very obstinate, would have me ride on a caisson in the rear; whereas I wished to be in the advance, where my advice might have been useful. The charge of the Arabs was very sudden; the three men who were with the caisson were sabred, and I was in the arms of a chieftain, who was wheeling round his horse to make off with me when a ball took him in the neck, and he fell with me. I disengaged myself, seized the horse by the bridle, and prevented its escape; and I also took possession of the Arab's pistols and scimitar.'

"'Indeed!'

"'My husband sold the horse the next day to one of our generals, who forgot to pay for it after my husband was killed. As for the scimitar and pistols, they were stolen from me that night: but what can you expect?—our army is brave, but a little demoralised. The next day we arrived before Constantine, and we had to defile before the enemy's guns. At one portion of the road, men and horses were tumbled over by their fire; the caisson that I was riding upon was upset by a ball, and thrown down the ravine, dragging the horses after it. I lay among the horses' legs—they kicking furiously; it was a miracle that my life was preserved: as it was——'

"'You broke your nose,' interrupted I.

"'No, sir, indeed I did not. I only received a kick on the arm, which obliged me to carry it in a sling for some days. The weather became very bad; we had few tents, and they were not able to resist the storms of rain and wind. We wrapped ourselves up how we could and sat in deep pools of water, and the Arabs attacked us before we could open the fire of our batteries; we were in such a pickle that, had the bad weather lasted, we must have retreated; and happy would those have been who could have once more found themselves safe in the camp of Mzez Ammar. I don't think that I ever suffered so much as I did at that time—the weather had even overcome the natural gallantry of our nation; and so far from receiving any attention, the general remark to me was, "What the devil do you do here?" This to be said to a pretty woman!'

"'It was not till the 10th that we could manage to open the fire of our batteries. It was mud, mud, and mud again; the men and horses were covered with mud up to their necks—the feathers of the staff were covered with mud—every ball which was fired by the enemy sent up showers of mud; even the face of the Duc de Nemours was disfigured with it. I must say that our batteries were well situated, all except the great mortar battery. This I pointed out to Damremont when he passed me, and he was very savage. Great men don't like to be told of their faults; however, he lost his life three days afterwards from not taking my advice. He was going down the hill with Rulhieres when I said to him, 'Mon General, you expose yourself too much; that which is duty in a subaltern is a fault in a general.' He very politely told me to go to where he may chance to be himself now; for a cannon-ball struck him a few seconds afterwards, and he was killed on the spot. General Perregaux was severely wounded almost at the same time. For four days the fighting was awful; battery answered to battery night and day: while from every quarter of the compass we were exposed to the fierce attacks of the Arab cavalry. The commander of our army sent a flag of truce to their town, commanding them to surrender; and, what do you think was the reply?—"If you want powder, we'll supply you; if you are without bread, we will send it to you: but as long as there is one good Mussulman left alive you do not enter the town."—Was not that grand? The very reply, when made known to the troops, filled them with admiration of their enemy, and they swore by their colours that if ever they overpowered them they would give them no quarter.

"'In two days, General Vallee, to whom the command fell upon the death of Damremont, considered the breach sufficiently wide for the assault, and we every hour expected that the order would be given. It came at last. My poor husband was in the second column which mounted. Strange to say, he was very melancholy on that morning, and appeared to have a presentiment of what was to take place. "Coralie," said he to me, as he was scraping the mud off his trousers with his pocket-knife, "if I fall, you will do well. I leave you as a legacy to General Vallee—he will appreciate you. Do not forget to let him know my testamentary dispositions."

"'I promised I would not. The drums beat. He kissed me on both cheeks. "Go, my Philippe," said I; "go to glory." He did; for a mine was sprung, and he with many others was blown to atoms. I had watched the advance of the column, and was able to distinguish the form of my dear Philippe when the explosion with the vast column of smoke took place. When it cleared away, I could see the wounded in every direction hastening back; but my husband was not among them. In the meantime the other columns entered the breach—the firing was awful, and the carnage dreadful. It was more than an hour after the assault commenced before the French tricolor waved upon the minarets of Constantine.

"'It was not until the next day that I could make up my mind to search for my husband's body; but it was my duty. I climbed up the breach, strewed with the corpses of our brave soldiers, intermingled with those of the Arabs; but I could not find my husband. At last a head which had been blown off attracted my attention. I examined it—it was my Philippe's, blackened and burnt, and terribly disfigured: but who can disguise the fragment of a husband from the keen eyes of the wife of his bosom? I leaned over it. "My poor Philippe!" exclaimed I; and the tears were bedewing my cheeks when I perceived the Duc de Nemours close to me, with all his staff attending him. "What have we here?" said he, with surprise, to those about him. "A wife, looking for her husband's body, mon Prince," replied I. "I cannot find it; but here is his head." He said something very complimentary and kind, and then walked on. I continued my search without success, and determined to take up my quarters in the town. As I clambered along, I gained a battered wall; and, putting my foot on it, it gave with me, and I fell down several feet. Stunned with the blow, I remained for some time insensible; when I came to, I found——"

"'That you had broken your nose.'

"'No, indeed; I had sprained my ankle and hurt the cap of my knee, but my nose was quite perfect. You must have a little patience yet.

"'What fragments of my husband were found, were buried in a large grave, which held the bodies and the mutilated portions of the killed; and, having obtained possession of an apartment in Constantine, I remained there several days, lamenting his fate. At last it occurred to me that his testamentary dispositions should be attended to, and I wrote to General Vallee, informing him of the last wishes of my husband. His reply was very short: it was, that he was excessively flattered, but press of business would not permit him to administer to the will. It was not polite.

"'On the 26th I quitted Constantine with a convoy of wounded men. The dysentery and the cholera made fearful ravages, and I very soon had a caisson all to myself. The rain again came on in torrents, and it was a dreadful funeral procession. Every minute wretches, jolted to death, were thrown down into pits by the roadside, and the cries of those who survived were dreadful. Many died of cold and hunger; and after three days we arrived at the camp of Mzez Ammar, with the loss of more than one-half of our sufferers.

"'I took possession of one of the huts built of the boughs of the trees which I formerly described; and had leisure to think over my future plans and prospects. I was young and pretty, and hope did not desert me. I had recovered my baggage, which I had left at the camp, and was now able to attend to my toilet. The young officers who were in the camp paid me great attention, and were constantly passing and repassing to have a peep at the handsome widow, as they were pleased to call me; and now comes the history of my misfortune.

"'The cabin built of boughs which I occupied was double; one portion was fenced off from the other with a wattling of branches, which ran up about seven feet, but not so high as the roof. In one apartment I was located, the other was occupied by a young officer who paid me attention, but who was not to my liking. I had been walking out in the cool of the evening and had returned, when I heard voices in the other apartment; I entered softly and they did not perceive my approach; they were talking about me, and I must say that the expressions were very complimentary. At last one of the party observed, "Well, she is a splendid woman, and a good soldier's wife. I hope to be a general by-and-bye, and she would not disgrace a marshal's baton. I think I shall propose to her before we leave the camp."

"'Now, sir, I did not recognise the speaker by his voice, and, flattered by the remark, I was anxious to know who it could be who was thus prepossessed in my favour. I thought that if I could climb up on the back of the only chair which was in my apartment, I should be able to see over the partition and satisfy my curiosity. I did so, and without noise; and I was just putting my head over to take a survey of the tenants of the other apartment when the chair tilted, and down I came on the floor, and on my face. Unfortunately, I hit my nose upon the edge of the frying-pan, with which my poor Philippe and I used to cook our meat: and now, sir, you know how it was that I broke my nose.'

"'What a pity!' observed I.

"'Yes; a great pity. I had gone through the whole campaign without any serious accident, and——But after all it was very natural: the two besetting evils of women are Vanity and Curiosity, and if you were to ascertain the truth, you would find that it is upon these two stumbling-blocks that most women are upset and break their noses.'

"'Very true, madam,' replied I. 'I thank you for your narrative, and shall be most happy to be of any use to you. But I will detain you from your rest no longer, so wish you a very good night.'"

"Well, Colonel," said I, as he made a sudden stop, "what occurred after that?"

"I took great care of her until we arrived in London, saw her safe to the hotel in Leicester Square, and then took my leave. Whether Liston replaced her nose, and she is now flanee-ing about Paris, as beautiful as before her accident; or, whether his skill was useless to her, and she is among the Soeurs de Charite, or in a convent, I cannot say: I have never seen or heard of her since."

"Well, I know Liston, and I'll not forget to ask him about her the very first time that I meet him. Will you have another cigar?"

"No, I thank you. I've finished my cigar, my bottle, and my story, and so now good-night!"

THE END.

TURNBULL AND SPEARS, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.