they crawled one after the other in, and soon found the hole widen into a spacious sort of passage, formed in the chalk, which terminated, to Claude's great surprise, in a cottage belonging to a fisherman in league with the smugglers. This man and his family received Claude with unbounded kindness, both as being recommended by Edwards, and being of Norman blood, and they readily agreed to do everything necessary to expedite him on his journey. The captain only stayed to drink a cup of brandy, and to exchange a hearty farewell with Claude and little Mervyn, whom he kissed and hugged most affectionately, and then returned to his vessel.

The next day beheld our travellers on their way to Saint Omer, well mounted and armed, though without a passport, Mervyn riding delightedly before his protector. All these good things were procured by a liberal outlay of Claude's doubloons, but he dared not apply for a passport, lest inquiry should be raised. The news of the great fire was already the universal topic in Calais, and Claude desired no questioning on the subject; and as the police of those days was by no means strict, he easily crossed the frontier, and entered Flanderswhich was still an appanage of the house of Austria.

VOL. I.

CHAPTER VIII.

CAPTAIN OATES.

It was a fine bright morning, and both travellers were delighted to be once more on terra firma; but towards noonday the heat grew so oppressive, that Claude found it necessary to seek shelter for a time. The road was skirted on both sides by very rich meadows, and shaded by broad oaks and chestnuts; and as he had taken the precaution to fill his saddlebags with such viands as he had deemed good for a journey, he thought they might as well alight and satisfy their appetites, in a pleasant rural way, under the trees. He dismounted, therefore, and turned his horse loose among the green herbage; then hearing

the babbling of a stream at hand, he penetrated a woody ravine on his left, to seek its cool waters. He had not advanced many yards, however, ere he encountered a bony Rosinante of a horse, tied by the leg to a crab-tree, and browsing with famished eagerness. This made him look forward with some anxiety, and he perceived a man stretched, either dead or asleep, on the grass. A few steps farther, and the deep nasal snore which greeted him, showed that the latter was the case.

Duval hesitated as to whether he should retire quietly, or take the society which chance offered. He had all a Frenchman's liking for chatter, but on the whole the stranger did not exactly please him. He was of a low, square-set, ill-built form-his neck short and thick, his arms disproportionately long, and terminated by large bony hands. His visage and features were of a peculiar cast, for the mouth was in the centre of the face, and the disproportionate length of the chin gave him the look of a baboon. This natural ugliness, aided by an expression of low cunning, which the features preserved even in sleep, made it one of the most disagreeable faces Claude had ever seen.

The man was dressed in a suit of dilapidated re

gimentals, such as were worn by the old guard of Cromwell, and armed with sword and pistols. A dirty leather wallet lay near him, and the relics of a banquet, consisting of very coarse esculents, were scattered about; also a grey-hen, or stone bottle, which had contained some sort of strong liquor.

On the whole Claude thought he would leave the stranger to his slumbers; but it was no longer possible; Mervyn, led by instinctive dislike, lifted a clod, and threw it on the stranger's face. He awoke with a start and a confused curse, and looked around with a pair of small, vicious, pig-eyes, whose expression of alarm almost made Claude laugh. But he civilly explained his purpose in French, and told the stranger that, if it would not interrupt him, he and his little boy would take their dinner in the shade of the fine trees around.

"I understand no French," said the other, doggedly, and in a very coarse voice. "But if you know anything of Aunglish, speak out, and I'll do what I can conscientiously to pleasure ye.”

Claude repeated his apology in English, and the stranger having muttered his acquiescence, Claude quietly proceeded to open his larder, consisting of

part of a haunch of venison, and a little keg of the finest brandy, a parting present from his friend, the smuggler. Observing that his new companion viewed these preparations not without emotion, Claude invited him to partake, and soon found that, whatever he had eaten previously, he had left off with a competent appetite. He drank in proportion, and soon grew very talkative.

The fire of London was, of course, the first topic. The stranger had heard nothing of it, but he listened with great interest to Claude's details, interspersing the narrative with oaths and ejaculations of wonder, and testifying great satisfaction on learning that the catholics were considered or suspected as the authors of this vast ruin.

"And what do men say of this paupistical Duke of Yoarck?" he said, in his broad manner. "Do they not consider he is at the boattem-the snake coiled at the root of all this offence? 'Slife, I warrant him, he would burn one half of Aungland to make the other a dunghill of damnable paupishtry!" "I cannot say I think the duke hath any hand in it,” replied Claude, "which were, methinks, as if a man set fire to his own corn to dry it.”

"Then without doubt, it is the Jesuits," said the