have been somewhat irregular. My attention
has only now been directed to your advertisement,
addressed to 'Proll.'"

"God bless me! are you Proll?" exclaimed
the curate, starting from his seat.

The colonel laughed.

"Well, no," he replied. "My wife is. At
her desire I am here to explain what, judging
from the terms of your advertisement, has
remained too long a mystery. So, poor Mr.
Smith is gone? Well! Peace to the brave."

"Ehem," said Mr, Slade. "To be sure.
Yes."

"It was an act, sir," said the colonel,
enthusiastically, "worthy of the brightest age of
chivalry."

"You don't say—that is, do you think so?"
said Mr. Slade, cautiously.

"Indeed I do. But let me relate, in a
few words, what you don't know of this
matter."

("You might relate what I do in fewer still,"
thought Mr. Slade.)

"When I was a jolly young cornet,"
continued his visitor, " I had the good hap to
engage the affections of one who—God be praised!
—is still the blessing of my home. She was
an only child: heiress, in prospect, of very
great wealth. Her father looked to unite her
to a member of the noble house with which he
was already distantly connected, and, having
some suspicion of our attachment, hurried
Rosina off, for a time, to the residence of a
relative who lived in a sequestered neighbourhood
three miles from hence. Singularly
enough, my regiment was ordered into this
very district. Quite as remarkable was it, that
my wife's father never knew of that coincidence.
So palpable an interposition of fate was not to
be neglected. We met as often as possible.
Show myself I dared not in the quiet walks of
Copfold. So Rosina mounted a rough pony,
made over to her by her aunt for excursions
beyond the park limits, and flew across to meet
me in the willow meadows, near Hollow-cross
Farm.

"On one of these occasions she had tied up
her pony in the little copse, and was tripping
across a field, when she was alarmed by
distant shouts, and, turning, found herself within
twenty yards of a furious bullock, which had
plunged through a gap in the hedge, and was
making directly for her. She had given herself
up for lost, when a man—a little man, too—
with a desperate bound, cleared the hedge,
and threw himself between her and the raging
animal! That prompt and generous action
probably saved her life. She was preserved. So
was he! for the farm people were at hand, and
Rosina, from behind the hedge, could perceive
that, though knocked down, her champion was
not gored, and was receiving all the assistance
his case demanded.

"Well, sir, the interposition of friends
reconciled Rosina's father to my suit. We were
married, my wife receiving a magnificent dowry.
One of the first uses she made of it was to
commence that series of grateful offerings,
which doubtless reached their destination. The
mystery was rendered necessary by my wife's
unwillingness to let it be known how indifferently
that dear old lady at Copfold had fulfilled the
office of her keeper. Hence, she adopted for her
name a nursery appellation, which has, you will
observe, about as striking a resemblance to the
real one, as such pet names usually bear. Poor,
gallant Smith! Well, well! The remembrance
of such an act of heroism may—modest as he
was—have brought with it a certain sense of
satisfaction. Yet, had any one whispered so
much in his dying ear, he would probably have
faltered out: 'Merely my duty.'"

Mr. Slade coughed.

"Courage, colonel, I have heard, is
constitutional, and——"

"I don't know about that," returned the
colonel. "For my own part, though I have
seen a shot or two, and stood my ground no
worse, I hope, than others;—if I saw a mad
bull preparing to charge, hang me if I shouldn't
be inclined to turn tail, provided there was cover
at hand!" And the colonel looked as little like a
man who would keep his word herein, as he
could well look.

"I am at least certain," said Mr. Slade, in a
low voice, " that had our departed friend been
more fully sensible of the service he had
rendered, he would have felt deeply grateful for
having been the instrument of so providential a
deliverance."

"As meek as he was intrepid, eh?" said
Colonel Commerell. " A beautiful combination!
And now let me complete my mission.
Proll, that is, Mrs. Commerell, positively
refuses to hear of 'anything to her advantage,'
resulting from Mr. Smith's will, save the
gratification of knowing that the brave fellow
remembered her. Your solicitor, whom I saw in
my way hither, favoured me with a copy of the
codicil. My wife will most gladly co-operate
with you in carrying out the admirable object
of rewarding deeds of self-devotion. It is a
thing we rarely do in England, where duty—
no matter to what extreme it be carried—is
popularly, though I think erroneously, believed
to provide its own reward."

             Now ready, bound in cloth, price 5s. 6d.,
                   VOLUME THE SEVENTEENTH.