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But Marc'antonio turned to the fire again, and would not

answer.

As I remember, some three or four days passed before I contrived to draw him into further talk; and, curiously enough, after trying him a dozen times per ambages (as old Mr. Grylls would have said) and in vain, on the point of despair I succeeded with a few straight words.

'Marc'antonio,' said I, 'I have a notion about King Theodore.' 'I am listening, cavalier.'

-A suspicion only, and horribly to his discredit.'

'It is the likelier to be near the truth.'

'Could he-think you-have sold his children to the Genoese? Marc'antonio cast a quick glance at me. I have thought of that,' he said quietly. He was capable of it.'

'It would explain why they were allowed to live. A father, however deep his treachery, would make that a part of the bargain.' Marc'antonio nodded.

'I would give something,' I went on, 'to know how Father Domenico came by the secret. By confession of one of the sisters, you suggest. Well, it may be so. But there might be another way -only take warning that I do not like this Father Domenico

'I am listening.'

'Is it not possible that he himself contrived the kidnapping -always with King Theodore's consent?'

'Not possible,' decided Marc'antonio after a moment's thought. 'No more than you do I like the man: but consider. It was he who sent us to find and bring them back to Corsica. At this moment, when (as I will confess to you) all odds are against it, he holds to their cause; he, a comfortable priest and a loose liver, has taken to the bush and fares hardly for his zeal.'

'My good friend,' said I, 'you reason as though a traitor must needs work always in a straight line and never quarrel with his paymaster: whereas by the very nature of treachery these are two of the unlikeliest things in the world. Now, putting this aside, tell me if you think your Prince Camillo the better for Father Domenico's company?.. ?... You do not, I see.'

'The

'I will not say that,' answered Marc'antonio slowly. Prince has good qualities. He will make a Corsican in time. But, I own to you, he has been ill brought up, and before ever he met with Father Domenico. As yet he thinks only of his own will,

like a spoilt child; and of his pleasures, which are not those of a king such as he desires to be.'

Said I at a guess, '-But the pleasures-eh, Marc'antonio ?— such as a forward boy learns on the pavements; of Brussels for example?'

I thought for the moment he would have knifed me, so fiercely he started back and then craned forward at me, showing his white teeth. I saw that my luck with him hung on this moment.

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'Tell me,' I said, facing him and dragging hard on the hurry in my voice, and remember that I owe no love to this cub. You may be loyal to him as you will, but I am the Princess's man, I! You heard me promise her. Tell me, why has she no recruits?' He drew back yet farther, still with his teeth bared. not her man?' he almost hissed.

Am I

'So you tell me,' I answered with a scornful laugh, brazening it out. You are her man, and Stephanu is her man, and the Prince too, and the Father Domenico no doubt. Yes, you are all her men, you four: but why can she collect no others?' I paused a moment and, holding up a hand, checked them off contemptuously upon my fingers. Four of you! and among you at least one traitor! Stop!' said I, as he made a motion to protest. 'You four-you and Stephanu and the Prince and Fra Domenicoknow something which it concerns her fame to keep hidden; you four, and no other that I wot of. You are all her men, her champions and yet this secret leaks out and poisons all minds against the cause. Because of it, Paoli will have no dealing with you. Because of it, though you raise your standard on the mountains, no Corsicans flock to it. Pah!' I went on, my scorn confounding him, I called you her champion, the other day! Be so good as consider that I spoke derisively. Four pretty champions she has, indeed; of whom one is a traitor, and the other three have not the spirit to track him down and kill him!'

Marc'antonio stood close by me now. To my amazement he was shaking like a man with the ague.

'Cavalier, you do not understand,' he protested hoarsely: but his eyes were wistful, as though he hoped for something which yet he dared not hear.

Eh? I do not understand? Well, now, listen to me. I am her man, too, but in a different fashion. You heard what I swore to her, that day, beside my friend's body; that whether in hate or love, and be her need what it might, I would help her. Hear me

repeat it, lying here with my both legs broken, helpless as a log. Let strength return to me and I will help her yet, and in spite of all her champions.'

'In hate or in love, cavalier?' Marc'antonio's voice shook with his whole body.

That shall be my secret,' answered I. (Yet well I knew what the answer was, and had known it since the moment she had bent over me in the sty, filing at my chain.) 'It had better be hate -eh, Marc'antonio ?-seeing that for some reason she hates all men, except you perhaps, and Stephanu, and her brother.'

'We do not count, I and Stephanu. Her brother she adores. But the rest of men she hates, cavalier, and with good cause.' 'Then it had better be hate?'

'Yes, yes '-and there was appeal in his voice-'it had a thousand times better be hate, could such a miracle happen.' He peered into my eyes for a moment, and shook his head. But it is not hate, cavalier; you do not deceive me. And since it is not

'Well?'

'It were better for you-far better-that Giusè had died of the wound you gave him.'

'Why, what on earth has Giusè to do with this matter?' I demanded. Indeed I had all but forgotten Giusè's existence.

'Only this; that had Giusè died, they would have killed you out of hand in vendetta.'

'You are an amiable race, you Corsicans!'

'And you came, cavalier, meaning to reign over us! . . . Now I have taken a liking to you and will give you a warning. Be like your father, and give up all for love.'

'Suppose,' said I after a pause, 'that for love I choose rather to dare all?'

'Signore he stepped back and, raising himself erect, flung out both hands passionately-Take her, if you must take her, away from Corsica! She is innocent, but here they will never understand. What she did she did for her brother, far from home, yet he ... he has no thanks, no bowels of pity, and here at home it is killing her! There was a young man, a noble, head of the family of Rocca Serra by Sartene Marc'antonio broke off, trembling.

'You must finish,' said I, in a voice cold and slow as the chilled blood about my heart.

There was no harm in her. By her brother's will they were

betrothed. She hated the youth, and he-he was eager-until the day before the marriage

'What happened, Marc'antonio?'

'He slew himself, cavalier. Some story reached him, and he slew himself with his own gun. O cavalier, if you can help us, take her away from Corsica!"

He cast up both hands and ran from me.

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(To be continued.)

MR. GLADSTONE AS I KNEW HIM.

Ar the annual meeting of the Academy of Moral and Political Science in Paris, in 1898, a distinguished speaker said: 'Mr. Gladstone might have sat here at his choice among our philosophers, our historians, our jurists, or our moralists. He summed up in his person all the moral sciences; better still, he carried out the doctrines he professed.'

To this it may be added that he was a scholar, theologian, administrator, and financier of the highest order, and as an orator he was able at will to excite the enthusiasm, rouse the sympathies, call forth the love and the hatred, both alike passionate, of his fellow-countrymen. Mr. Gladstone once said to Sir Edward Hamilton: I have made mistakes enough in my political career, God knows, but I can honestly assert that I have never said or done anything in politics in which I did not sincerely believe;' he might however have added, it is the struggle and not the victory that constitutes the glory of noble hearts.

It is of none of these qualities that I am going to write; neither am I going to dwell on his genealogical, his theological controversies, his Homeric studies; all of these subjects have been dealt with in that splendid and wonderful book of Mr. John Morley's, which is now within reach of all of us. But if the reader will bear with me for a short time I should like to have a little talk of Mr. Gladstone as I knew him, and, alas! there are few now living who knew him as long as I did.

There will be some readers of this paper who are hostile in their political opinions, but time has probably softened, if it has not entirely obliterated, the acerbities of what is now past history; and if I am obliged to allude to politics, I hope that I shall not be tempted to say one word that can offend the susceptibilities of the most susceptible. In talking of Mr. Gladstone, how can I avoid any reference to politics? for his name runs like a golden thread through all the beneficent legislation of the latter part of the last century. You might as well talk of Nelson and avoid

'The subject of an Address given at an Institution in Kensington.

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