soon arrive, and many officers would know me.
Right glad I was, therefore, to find myself in the
cars, en route for Canada. It seemed an
interminable time before the cars started, and I was
in nervous dread lest I might be discovered before
they set off; but we were soon whirling along
the beautiful banks of the Hudson, and then I
began to breathe freely.

Nothing unusual occurred till we reached
Albany, the state capital, when a United States
officer entered the train in which I was proceeding
northward, and took a seat in the car by my
side. He was a red-headed good-natured fellow,
who at once began to gossip with myself and
others about the war, and such usual topics. At
length the conversation turned upon deserters,
and he remarked that desertion had now reached
its climax, for he believed that the authorities,
had resolved in future to shoot all who were
taken. He added, quite innocently, that a telegram
from New York had just been received at
Albany, directing them to look out for and stop
a fellow who had, on the previous day, escaped
from Staten Island, under most outrageous
circumstances. He had first knocked down and
half killed his colonel, besides defying the whole
guard, and the general himself. He took from
his pocket a paper, from which he read to me
the description of myself. He added that, being
an Englishman, this fellow would assuredly make
for Canada, and that he (the speaker) was then
on his road to a junction depôt, some twenty
miles from Albany, through which all the northern
trains must pass, and there he would examine each
passenger until he found his man; when caught,
of course he would be shot. Very well pleased
was I to see him leave the train at this junction,
after courteously bidding us "good day."

Onward I sped, travelling night and day, by
land and water, until I reached a small village
at the top of Lake Champlain. The steamer
arriving there on Sunday morning, I could get
no further, as in America trains do not run on
Sunday. I was compelled, sorely against my
will, to stop twenty-four hours near the
Canadian frontier, but still within the United
States territory. In this village lived the United
States provost-marshal and staff, who were in
charge of the frontier, and whose duty it was to
examine every one passing through for Canada.
I went to the principal hotel (which was not a
very grand one) and quartered myself there,
among numerous guests, of whom some had
been my fellow-travellers, and some were regular
boarders. Among the boarders was one old
gentleman, who made himself peculiarly agreeable,
and with whom I soon got into a lively
controversy. We spent nearly all the day (it was
snowing heavily outside) in debate over political
and international subjects: I taking an essentially
English view of everything, and showing myself
to be in every respect thoroughly English.
During the discussion, I was startled by the
accidental discovery that I, a deserter, particularly
wanted by the authorities, was actually in warm
controversy with the provost-marshal himself,
whose duty it was to stop me. I did not feel
very comfortable during the remainder of the
evening; but all went well, and in the morning,
after we had breakfasted together, I
proceeded to the depôt, where, on going to take
my place in the cars, I found the provost-marshal
already busy, papers in hand, diligently
inspecting all the passengers. But he never
once suspected me; how could he suspect a
person who had passed most of the previous
twenty-four hours in his company, and on terms
of friendship? We parted with a hearty shake of
the hand, and a joke over our yesterday's dispute.

Arrived at the frontier, I was exceedingly
nervous during the Customs examination; in
fact, now that my last chance of failure was
attained, I found myself trembling violently.
But this delay was at length over; we moved on,
and I soon had the satisfaction of seeing a soldier
in the British uniform enter the train. A terrible
load was lifted from my heart, for I then knew
that I was safe under the protection of the
British flag: a blessing none can properly appreciate
but those who, like myself, have felt the
want of it. I was still friendless and moneyless,
though free, for my hundred dollars had by this
time disappeared, and Canada being then, and
for months afterwards, covered with snow, I saw
but a poor prospect for the future; however,
having written to England for a remittance, I had
only to fight out, as a free man, six weeks of hardship
and hunger. This I did with a good heart,
for my life and its future were my own again.

RICHELIEU.

ALL, she-creatures that exist
Power can subdue;
Save the Muse,— that could resist
Cardinal Richelieu.

He the War of Thirty Years
With his left hand led;
Struck the turbulent French Peers
With his right hand dead;

Mad-dog-Luther loosed, to thwart
Kaiser Karl, and Rome;
Fashion'd France, and shook to the heart
Crazy Christendom;

Greatest man of many great!
When to see him came
The Queen-Mother, while he sat,
Stood the royal dame:

Round him he, with haughty mien,
Rome's proud purple wrapp'd:
Trembling stood the bare-head Queen,
Sat the Cardinal, capp'd.

Only little poets were
Gombault, Desmarets,
Colletet, and Boisrobert;
Yet, whenever they

Came to see the Cardinal,
Not one doff'd his hat;
Proud as princes one and all,
These small poets sat: