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ter, who stood and looked, with great | you the country about him," Mrs. Forgravity, upon his place of trial. When rester said. The English M. P. could Katie's voice became audible at his side, not but think that it was his reputation advising him in very distinct tones to re- which had travelled before him, and gained store the old place, Walter felt himself him so delightful a reception. shrink and grow red, as if some villany had been suggested to him. He made no reply. He had thought himself of some thing of the same description in his first acquaintance with Kinloch-houran; but how different his feelings were now!"

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The reader already knows what were Mrs. Forrester's teas. The party filled the pleasant drawing-room in which a fire was burning brightly, notwithstanding the sunshine without, and the scones arrived in bountiful quantity, one supply after another; Mysie's countenance beaming "a few more were demanded; while her mistress did nothing but fill out cups of tea and press her young guests to eat. “Another cup will not hurt you," she said. "That is just nonsense about nerves. If it was green tea, indeed, and you were indulging in it at night to keep you off your sleep-but in a fine afternoon like this, and after your row. Now just try one of these scones; you have not tasted this kind. It is hot from the girdle, and we all think my cook has a gift. Mysie, tell Margaret that we will have a few more. And Oona, it is the cream scones that Katie likes: but you must tell Lord Erradeen to try this kind, just to please me.”

Thus the kind lady ran on. It gave her the profoundest pleasure to see her house filled, and to serve her young guests with these simple delicacies. "Dear me, it is just nothing. I wish it was better worth taking," she answered to Mr. Braithwaite's compliments, who made the usual pretty speeches of the English tourist as to Scotch hospitality. Mrs. Forrester felt as if these compliments were a half-re proach to her for so simple an entertainment. "You see," she said, "it is all we can do; for, besides that there is no gentleman in the house, which is against dinner giving, we are not well situated in the isle for evening visits. The nights are cold at this time of the year, and it is not always easy to strike our bit little landing in the dark; so we have to content ourselves with a poor offering to our friends. And I am sure you are very kind to take it so politely. If my boys were at home, I would have it more in my power to show attention; but if you are going further north, I hope you will make your way to Eaglescairn and see my son, who will be delighted to show

As for the rest of the party, they were fully entertained by Oona, who was more than usually lively and bright. She said very little to Lord Erradeen, who was by far the most silent of the assembly, but exerted herself for her other guests, with a little flush upon her which was very becoming, and an excitement completely concealed and kept under, which yet acted upon her like a sort of ethereal stimulant quickening all her powers. They were so gay that Mrs. Forrester's anxiety about their return, which indeed she forgot as soon as they were under her roof, was baffled, and it was not till the glow of the sunset was beginning to die out in the west that the visitors began to move. Then there was a hurrying and trooping out, one group following another, to get to the boats. The landscape had changed since they came, and now the upper end of the loch was all cold and chill in the greyness of early twilight, though the sky behind in the southward was still glowing with color. Benlui lay in a soft mist, having put off his purple and gold, and drawn about him the ethereal violet tones of his evening mantle; but on the slopes beneath, as they fell towards the margin of the water, all color had died out. Lord Erradeen was one of the last to leave the house, and he was at first but vaguely aware of the little movement and sudden pause of the party upon the first turn of the winding path. He did not even understand for a moment the eager whisper which came almost more distinctly than a shout through the clear, still evening air. It was the voice of young Tom of Ellermore.

"Look there! the light-the light! Who says they do not believe in it?" the young fellow said; and then there was a flutter of exclamations and subdued cries of wonder and interest, not without dissentient voices.

"I see some sort of a glimmer," said one.

"It is as clear as day," cried another. "It must be reflection," a third said. Walter raised his eyes; he had no sort of doubt to what they referred. His old house lay dark upon the edge of the dark, gleaming loch, silent, deserted, not a sign of life about the ruined walls; but upon the tower shone the phantasm of the light, now waning, now rising, as if some

unfelt wind blew about the soft light of an | of the last boat as it was pushed off. Then unseen lamp. It brought him to himself he looked at Oona with a smile. in a moment, and woke him up from the "I am called ". he said, "but not that maze of vague thoughts which had ab- way. Now I must go home." stracted him even in the midst of the gay Her heart beat so that she could scarcemovement and bustle. He listened with ly speak. Was this spell to take possesstrange spectatorship, half stern, half sion of her again, against her will, without amused, to all the murmurs of the little any wish of his, like some enchantment? crowd. She fought against it with all her might.

"If you call that light!" said the voice of Katie; "it is some phosphorescence that nobody has examined into, I suppose. Who knows what decayed things are there? That sort of glimmer always comes out of decay. Oh, yes, I once went to chemistry lectures, and I know. Besides, it stands to reason. What could it be else?"

"You know very well, Katie, what they say that it is the summons of the warlock lord."

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"I would like to answer the summons," cried Katie with a laugh. "I would send for the health inspector, from Glasgow, and clear it all out, every old crevice, and all the perilous stuff. That would be the thing to do. As for the warlock lord, papa shall invite him to dinner if you will find out where he is to be met with, Tom." "Like the commandant in 'Don Giovanni,'" somebody said; and there was an echoing laugh, but of a feeble kind. Walter heard this conversation with a sort of forlorn amusement. He was not excited; his blood was rather congealed than quickened in his veins. But he lingered behind, taking no notice of his late companions as they streamed away to the boats. He seemed in a moment to have been parted miles nay, worlds away from them. When he thought of the interview that was before him, and of the light-hearted strangers making comments upon the legend of the place with laugh and jest, it seemed to him that he and they could scarcely belong to the same race. He lingered, with no heart for the farewells and explanations that would be necessary if he left them formally: and turning round gazed steadfastly towards Kinloch-houran from behind the shade of the shrubbery. Here Oona found him, as she rushed back to warn him that the boats were pushing off. She began breathlessly,

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Lord Erradeen, you are called " then stopped, looked at him, and said no

more.

He did not answer her for a moment, but stood still, and listened to the sounds below, the impatient call, the plash of the oars in the water, the grating of the keel

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From Temple Bar.

NAPOLEON'S MARSHALS.

IF a man were asked what epoch of the past he would most gladly summon back so as to live in it, he would choose well in reviving the reign of Napoleon, and making himself an officer in the imperial army. To us who read of those ten sparkling years 1804-14, when the great emperor carried the spoils of Europe to Paris, and distributed crowns and coronets, bâtons, estates, and even high-born brides among his victorious soldiers, it seems as if the excitement of being a French officer must have been so intense as to keep the nerves in constant thrill. A single act of bravery in the field might bring a man under the conqueror's notice, and to win honors from his hand was a very different thing to getting them from the republic, which he had improved away. The grotesque governments of the Revo. lutionary period never made a general without bringing him to book afterwards to test whether he came up to the full standard of republican foolishness, and if he did not he was sure to feel that his head sat loosely on his shoulders. Even under the Directorate generals who returned in triumph from war had their

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Napoleon's marshals were twenty-six in number, of whom seven only were born in a rank which would have entitled them to become general officers under the old monarchy. These were Kellermann, Berthier, Davoust, Macdonald, Marmont, Grouchy, and Poniatowski, a Pole. Of the others, Murat was the son of an innkeeper, Lefebvre of a miller, Augereau of a mason, Bernadotte of a weaver, and Ney of a cooper. Masséna's father, like Murat's, kept a village wine-shop; Lannes was the son of an ostler, and was himself apprenticed to a dyer; Victor, whose real name was Perrin, was the son of an invalided private soldier, who after leaving the service became a market-crier; while Soult's mother kept a mercer's shop, and Oudinot's a small café with a circulating library. The marshals sprung from the bourgeoisie or middle class were Serrurier, whose father was an officer, but never rose above the rank of captain; Bessières, whose father, though a poor clerk in a lawyer's office, was the son of a doctor; Suchet, who was the son of a

pleasure marred by being solicited to join | ated the young prince of Neufchâtel and
in political intrigues, and it made matters Wagram Berthier's son, who was but
worse that such intrigues were often nec-five years old- -an hereditary peer of
essary to secure to them not only their France.
honors, but their pay. At a time when it
required fifteen thousand francs of re-
publican paper money to make a louis
d'or, all grades and dignities which the
republic conferred might be compared to
assignats: they bore no sort of specific
relation to those bestowed under the old
monarchy. Napoleon, however, suddenly
raised all these depreciated honors to a
premium, and it was the most signal glory
of his reign to have done so. He was
greater as a pacificator than as a con-
queror. To have reopened the churches,
to have replaced justice on her seat, to
have put an end to the reign of talkers
and writers the men who are least fitted
for business, but who under republics get
a monopoly of it to the general detriment
-was a mighty achievement. It set all
things in order, and made France once
more habitable and pleasant to dwell in.
But again when Napoleon created a new
aristocracy, he performed a brilliant stroke
of policy. Those who have ridiculed him
for it as if he had indulged in a mere
piece of vanity, have not considered what
were the difficulties of his position. Un-silk-merchant; Moncey, the son of a bar-
til he had converted his foremost soldiers
into princes, dukes, and counts, they could
all feel that he had not done so much for
them as a Bourbon king would have done;
and some of them did feel it. Many were
sprung from the poorest class, and the
prestige of the village seigneur to whom
they had bowed as boys, loomed very
large in their memories. The character
of a nation is not to be altered within a
few years, because a number of ranters
have declaimed about equality even to the
length of proposing that all steeples and
towers should be razed so that buildings
might be of one symbolical height; and
the persecution of the nobility during the
Revolution had really added to the value
of titles. Whether Napoleon wished to
lessen the worth of the old distinctions,
or merely to gratify his followers by plac-
ing them on a level with their former
masters the nobles, his creation of a new
aristocracy was a wise act, and it was im-
mediately ratified by popular approval.
Somebody jested with Ney about the new
nobility having no ancestors: "We ARE
ancestors," answered the marshal, and
this view was so generally accepted that
even when the Bourbons were restored
the imperial titles obtained full recogni-
tion. In 1815 Louis XVIII. actually cre-

rister; Gouvion, who assumed the name
of Saint-Cyr, and whose father practised
as an attorney; and Brune, who started
in life as a journalist. It is curious to
trace through the lives of the different
men the effect which their earliest asso-
ciations had upon them.
Some grew
ashamed of their parentage; whilst others
bragged overmuch of being self-made
men. Only one or two bore their honors
with perfect modesty and tact.

The noblest character among Napoleon's marshals was beyond doubt Adrian Moncey, Duc de Conegliano. He was born at Besançon in 1754, and enlisted at the age of fifteen, simply that he might not be a charge to his parents. From his father, the barrister, he had picked up a smattering of education, while nature had given him a talent for drawing: He looked so small and young when he was brought before the colonel of the Franche Comté regiment for enrolment, that the latter, who was quite a young man - the Count de Survilliers asked him, laughing, whether he had been tipsy from "drinking too much milk" when he fell into the hands of the recruiting sergeant. The sergeant, by way of proving that young Moncey had been quite sober when he had put on the white cockade (which was like

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taking the king's shilling in England), | standing between us, sir," said the Duc produced a cleverly executed caricature of d'Angoulême to him, after Moncey had himself which the boy had drawn; upon forced Barcelona and Tarragona to surwhich M. de Survilliers predicted that so render. accomplished a recruit would quickly win "There is likely to be none so long as an epaulette. This promise came to you only employ me on soldier's work," nothing, for in 1789, after twenty years' was the marshal's mild answer. service, Moncey was only a lieutenant. eventually became governor of the InvaIt was a noble trait in him that in after-lides, and it fell to him in 1840 to receive years he never spoke resentfully of his Napoleon's body when it was brought slow promotion. He used to say that he from St. Helena. It was remarked at the had been thoroughly well trained, and he time that if Napoleon himself could have alluded kindly to all his former officers. designated the man who was to discharge There is a well-known story of Napoleon this pious duty, he would have chosen being addressed by an officer who com- none other than Moncey, or Oudinot, who plained that he had been six years a lieu- by a happy coincidence became governor tenant. "I served seven years in that of the Invalides in 1842 after Moncey's grade!" was the answer, "and it has not death. prevented me from making my way." This was not the spirit in which Moncey would have replied. His sense of what he had suffered himself, rather urged him to watch that no deserving officer under his orders should be kept from promotion in his regular turn. He was so gentle and just that he got surnamed the second Catinat. Louis XIV. said of Catinat, that he was the only Frenchman who never asked anything of government, and Moncey, like him, was no courtier in the Duc d'Antin's famous definition of that creature: "One who speaks well of all men that are up, gives the go-by to those that are down, and begs for every place that falls vacant." After Napoleon's overthrow, Moncey's conduct was most chivalrous; he privately blamed Ney's betrayal of the Bourbons, for it was not in his nature to approve of double-dealing, but he refused to sit in judgment upon his former comrade. Marshal Victor was sent to shake his resolution, but Moncey repeated two or three times: "I do not think I should have acted as Ney did, but I believe he acted according to his conscience and did well; ordinary rules do not apply to this case.'

Nicolas Oudinot, Duc de Reggio, was surnamed the Modern Bayard. He was born in 1767, and like Moncey enlisted in his sixteenth year. He was wounded thirty-two times in action, but was so little of a braggart that in going among the old pensioners of the Invalides he was never heard to allude to his own scars. At Friedland a bullet went through both his cheeks, breaking two molars. "Ces dentistes russes ne savent pas arracher," was his only remark as his wound was being dressed. It was to him that an old soldier, applying for a decoration, addressed a letter beginning thus: "Marshal! under the Empire I received two wounds which are the ornaments of my life, one in the left leg, the other in the campaign of Jéna." This note used to be exhibited in the Museum of Arms, which Oudinot formed at his Château of Jean d'Heurs, near Bar-le-Duc, a museum which has since been purchased by the city of St. Etienne. It is full of curiosities collected from battle-fields, sometimes at great cost, for Oudinot never grudged money in buying mementoes of his profession. He was the most disinterested of men. After Friedland he received with the title of The Bourbons were so exasperated that count a grant of £40,000, and he began to they deprived Moncey of his rank and distribute money at such a rate among honors, and locked him up in the State his poor relations, that the emperor reprison of Ham, nevertheless in 1823, when monstrated with him. "You keep the the expedition to Spain took place under lead for yourself, and you give the gold the Duc d'Angoulême's orders, Moncey away," said his Majesty, in allusion to was offered the command of the 4th Corps, two bullets which remained in the mar and accepted it without rancor. He had shal's body. Oudinot was a great sayer first won his renown in the war of 1796 of drolleries of the Rabelaisian sort. against Spain, and had distinguished him- Being temporary governor of Madrid self in the subsequent Peninsular cam- during the war of 1823, he was appealed paigns, so that his experience of Spanish to by an irascible Spanish don, who had warfare was considered, and proved in the been kicked by a French officer, and event, to be valuable. I am sorry there wanted reparation for his "injured honshould ever have been any misunder- or." "Où diable placez-vous votre hon.

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neur?" asked the marshal. It was Oudi- | colonelcy at Jemmapes. The Irish Corps not's son who commanded the expedition had just then got into a bad scrape by that was sent to Rome in 1849, to restore mutinying and killing Count Theodobald Pius IX. to his throne. He was a plain, Dillon, brother of their colonel, and soldierly man, much like his father, and grandson of General Arthur Dillon, who once scolded M. Ferdinand de Lesseps had founded the corps. T. Dillon was piteously for being too charming. De brigadier-general (maréchal de camp) and Lesseps was trying to arrange a concilia- the cause of his massacre was simply tion between the Roman triumvirate that in obedience to sealed instructions he headed by Mazzini and the French government, and thereby he delayed the general's military action. At last Oudinot wrote impatiently: "I know, sir, how seductive you are: you enthralled General Vaillant, and you might talk me round | if we met; but I do not want to hear you; and General Vaillant, now that he is no longer under the spell of your tongue, thinks as I do. We both protest against your baulking us any longer."

Macdonald comes next among the marshals for nobility of character. He was of Irish extraction; and, born at Sancerre in 1765, served under Louis XVI. in Dillon's Irish Regiment. The privates in that corps, like those in the old Scotch Guard, ranked as cadets, the particles Mac and O' being held equivalent to the French de. We'll take it for granted you are all sons of Irish kings," said Marshal de Broglie impatiently, and wishing to cut short the arguments of a deputation of them who claimed that the cadets of the Ecole Militaire could cross swords with them without derogating. The Irish were not much more popular with the French than the Swiss Guards, and had to exercise themselves in repartee in order to parry the sarcasms that were continually prodded at them. Their skill in this kind of fence gave rise to the joke that in the Irish Corps there was tongue drill twice a day; and Macdonald's earliest duel was with a wag, who, in allusion to an affair of honor in which two Irishmen were the principals, said "he supposed the weapons chosen were speaking-trumpets." It may be doubted whether any of the Irish boys ever managed to say a smarter thing than a certain Swiss Guardsman at whom a Parisian jeered, saying: "You Swiss fight only for money, but we Frenchmen for honor." "Parbleu!" answered the Swiss, each fights for what he has not got." Macdonald, however, did make a very neat hit, when hearing a crabbed general ask, "What has been the use of these Irish?" he replied with a bow, "To be killed instead of Frenchmen." This was at the time of the republic, and a few months before Macdonald won his

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had avoided an engagement with the Austrians in Flanders. A dozen of his murderers were guillotined or shot by order of the Convention, and this affair started the question as to whether the Irishmen were not guilty of incivisme in continuing to call themselves Macs and O's after the de had been proscribed from the nomenclature of Frenchmen? Nothing came of the dispute except the pleasantry of addressing some of the Irish as le ci-devant Mac, le ci-devant O'. Of course very few of these descendants of Irishmen could speak English; and this was the case with Macdonald, who only commanced studying that language seriously in 1802-3, when he had an idea that he might become first consul of the Irish republic. Bonaparte was beginning then to form his huge camp at Boulogne, and Macdonald's promotion seemed to depend on nothing more difficult than the conquest of Great Britain. In 1804, however, all his prospects were suddenly marred through his generous espousal of Moreau's cause. Moreau had been banished on an ill-proven charge of conspiracy: and Macdonald thought, like most honest men, that he had been very badly treated.

But by saying aloud what most honest men were afraid even to whisper, Macdonald incurred the Corsican's vindictive hatred, and during five years he was kept in disgrace, being deprived of his command, and debarred from active service. He thus missed the campaigns of Austerlitz and Jena, and this was a bitter chagrin to him. He retired to a small country-house near Brunoy, and one of his favorite occupations was gardening. He was much interested in the projects for manufacturing sugar out of beet-root, which were to render France independent of West Indian sugar- a matter of great consequence after the destruction of France's naval power at Trafalgar; and he had an intelligent gardener who helped him in his not very successful efforts to raise fine beet-roots. This man turned out to be a police-spy. Napoleon in his jealousy of Moreau and hatred of all who sympathized with the latter, had thought

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