plaistering it industriously day and night. It
would not be gone for months."

"Oh," she said, as he came up, " listen to this,
William.  Mr. Tillotson has been asking some
of the lawyers at the hotel about the case——-"

Ross scowled at the other's feet. "I had
rather not," he said, "have my case talked
about, or asked about among the barristers, I
have paid counsel."

Mr. Tillotson smiled, and unconsciously his
gentle eye fell upon the cicatrice. The other
felt it on him.

"Well," he asked, " dare say it has been
injured enough by all this gossiping about the
place. I wish people would leave me and my
affairs alone. Of course they mean well, and
all that kind of cant."

Mr. Tillotson smiled. "I thought you would
like to know the exact moment of its coming
on. This was the judges' registrar, and he says
about one to-morrow, as there is only a short
case before it."

The girl's face fell. "So near at hand!" she
said. "Oh, it is dreadful! How shall we bear
the suspense of the day? Do, ah, let me ask
you once, and Mr. Tillotson joins us all, do
settle it as they want you."

"He joins you, does he?" said he. "And so
I must settle, must I? It's enough to have it
in one's mind, without being persecuted in this
infernal way. He joins you, does he? Well?"

Mr. Cater, his solicitor, was beside him,
motioning to a tired-looking, shabby, tall, and
stooped gentleman who was near him. "Mr.
Cobham, sir, wishes a word with you. To
know you, in fact."

With suspicion in his eyes, Ross went over to
him, and the three walked away slowly over the
graves. He came back presently, and overtook
the Tilney party, now nearly at their own door.

"Every one thinks they have a right to
dictate to me—-to give me lessons; but I had
better stop it at once, and give notice, once for
all, that I will not be pestered in this way.
That seedy mole of a pettifogger, who has
got my guineas in his pocket, must needs
come up to me with his advice about 'settling.'
Settling! Such a croak! croak! Settle from
an old mildewed anatomy as that! It's infernally
impudent of him, a trading fellow like that;
and indeed I told him nearly as much."

"Oh, William," said Ada, eagerly, "you see
them. Everybody says it. They must be right.
Will you not listen? You are only preparing
wretchedness for yourself.  Mr. Grainger, you
have influence over him. Stop this insanity."

The Indian-looking man rolled his wild eyes,
and put the end of his wilder moustache into his
mouth to chew. "I believe there is something
in that," he said; "but when Ross takes a thing
into his head, you might as well preach to that
headstone there."

"Do you believe him?" said Ross, scornfully.
"A fellow that has all but lost the shirt off
his back at those German hells, and would
pawn his soul for money; isn't he likely to be
for double or quits—-eh? Don't talk to me,
and I make it as a favour Mr.—-Mr. Tillotson,
that you won't be worrying the lawyers about
my affairs. I want no one—-no one—-to be
meddling in my concerns. I'm not in the
humour for it, I give warning. If they will,
damn it, I'll have to give 'em a lesson."

And, with fury in his eyes, he turned away.
It was a very restless Sunday for him; and
all the rest of the day he was prowling
about nervously, haunting his solicitor, and
taking wild quick walks over the hills. Over
the Tilney mansion, all through that day, was
cast a sense of gloom and uneasiness.

             UNDER FIRE.

IN the campaigns that immediately followed
the Indian Mutiny in 1857, I, a very young
soldier, newly arrived in India, was attached to
a small field force which had been left to guard
an important point in the line of communication
of the main army under Sir Colin Campbell. I
was naturally very impatient to see some actual
fighting, nor had I long to wait.

The point we had to guard was threatened by
a very powerful force of the enemy, who were
evidently watching their opportunity to sweep
down on our small force (we were only fifteen
hundred strong). Day by day reports came in
of their nearer approach, till at last one evening
they were known to be in position only three
miles in front of our camp. The officer in
command of our column determined to take the
initiative next morning, and attack, and, if
possible, compel them to retreat. I well remember
the peculiar thrill I experienced, when told by
a staff-officer that evening what had been
decided on. In spite of my previous eagerness, it
was impossible to help feeling serious at the
thought that the morrow must see us engaged
in a deadly conflict. I certainly felt no reluctance
to fight—-on the contrary, I felt rather
elated at the thought that at last I was a soldier
in earnest; but I am not ashamed to confess that
I slept little that night. All my past life rose
before me. I thought how much better I could
spend it, if I had it over again. To a person
who has never been face to face with death, the
prospect of a certain impending danger is rather
appalling, and so I found it. I was astonished
at two or three acquaintances—-old campaigners
—-who seemed to treat it as a matter of course,
and puffed their cheroots as coolly as if they
were in the smoking-room of the "Rag." I
did not know then that it is only before one's
first action one treats the matter seriously;
that when once the ice has been broken, fighting
comes very much as a matter of course, and
is looked forward to by most people as a kind
of pleasant excitement.

After listening to the challenges of the sentries
and the howling of the jackals for the greater
part of the night, it was a relief when, about an
hour before daylight, the camp was quietly
roused and the tents struck. In a very short
time the men had quietly fallen in. The morning
air was very cold, and, as no fires were
allowed, the ration of rum and biscuit which