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ladies eclipsed all the rest. If I were to say what article of their costume made the greatest impression on Ruggles-who was of a highly impressionable nature-I should say that, in all probability, it was their chaussure, he having a decided partiality for "a neat foot and ankle," which he saw to the greatest advantage in bottines of the most delicate hue, the palest blue, the faintest fawn, the snowiest white, rivalling each other at every fresh development; and these developments were frequent, for the roughness of the ground made it indispensable that those who had neat feet and ankles should exhibit them.

Mr. Sawkins, who was wiser in his generation than Ruggles, or perhaps less susceptible, reserved his admiration for the "tact" which "the battalions"- as he delighted to call them, making a mouthful of the word every time" the battalions" displayed "in transferring the comforts of private life to, he might perhaps be allowed to say, the threshold of war," which figure of speech had allusion to the part of the Camp occupied by the engineers. The men belonging to this branch of the service had, indeed, turned their constructive powers to some account, not only in the compactness with which their own huts were built, but in the decorations by which they were surrounded. The quartier du génie was quite a model Versailles-or guingette, whichever you please-with its sofas, chairs, and tables, its columns, vases, and temples,-all made of clay, covered with turf and ornamented in a way which the ingenious brain of a Frenchman could alone devise. The eagle of the Empire was thus moulded; the cock of victory, slightly sunburnt, thus set up; picked out in cockle-shells-the descendants, perhaps, of some of those gathered on the same shores by Claudius-appeared the initials of Louis Napoleon, in many instances interlaced with those of the Empress; and more than one inscription proclaimed the alliance of France with England, and denounced, in language tolerably strong, the disturber of the peace of Europe. The regiments of the line were simpler in their contrivances, the ornamentation of their quarters being chiefly confined to landscape gardening. Street-nomenclature was, however, common to the whole Camp; Rues d'Austerlitz, de Jéna, de Moscou, and de Marengo, were in abundance, and at the end of one of them was an affiche on which was painted a hand pointing to the north and bearing the inscription: “A Saint Petersbourg."

Isabel Crake was delighted with all she saw; "there was so much taste and ingenuity in the French; it was no matter, they really did; no, the English could not come up to them!" These assertions would have been disputed by Albert Criddle, had they been uttered by another person, but he did not venture to do more than "damn with faint praise," expressing it as his opinion that "the thing" was "'ather pitty," but that "the toops" were "too small to 'uff it when it came to the scatch; the sort of men he liked to see were the Bittish Gannadiers."

"Some of them are tall enough," thought Isabel Crake, "unless my memory deceives me !" And from that moment the words of Albert Criddle fell on her ear-(to use a simile of her own, in a letter she wrote the next day to her dearest friend "Miss Matilda Bigg, Villa Marina, Saint John's Wood")"like withered leaves upon the housetop

But everything at the Camp was not intended solely to please the eye; the visitors, as they passed along, were gratified by admirable military

music, our own national anthem being the regular pièce de resistance of each successive band. The melody was better played than the name of the air was pronounced, for at the close of the performance in a part of the Camp where the Crakes and their friends had joined a circle of listeners, a very stout little officer who stood beside the stockbroker took off his large cocked-hat, and making a low bow informed him with a smile that the band of his regiment had just done themselves the pleasure of playing "Goat shave de Quin !"

Mr. Crake, with true British politeness, burst into a horse-laugh on receiving this intimation, but the stout little officer was by no means disconcerted; he repeated the words and then joined in the general laughter, which he took for our national mode-and, perhaps, he was not far wrong -of returning a compliment; upon which the stockbroker put forth his hand and gave him a hearty shake, telling him he was a devilish good fellow.

Hearing her father's voice, Isabel turned in that direction, and to her surprise-perhaps, I may add, to her satisfaction-beheld not only the little chirurgéon-major of the 38th of the line, but the towering form of Prosper Chasseloup. An instantaneous recognition took place, and the tall officer, quick to perceive that he was not unremembered, immediately stepped forward, and addressing Isabel, expressed the great delight he felt at the honour conferred upon the Camp by her presence.

Miss Crake having profited by the studies which she had pursued at Montpellier House, Kensington, under the immediate eye of Professeur Le Fourreur ("a native of Paris"), was perfectly capable of replying to Captain Chasseloup, and therefore a slight hesitation which marked her manner must rather be ascribed to timidity than want of knowledge; her embarrassment, however, lasted but a very short time, and as her fluency increased so did the stockbroker's pride at possessing such a miracle of a daughter.

"Listen to Bell, now," he said to Albert Criddle, giving him a nudge with his elbow as he spoke; "that's something like: you'll find the real thing there, and no mistake. Professor Furry told me himself he never had a pupil that came near her. I'm dished if she don't beat the Frenchman at his own weapons!"

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Albert Criddle looked as if he should have liked to have beaten him too, and that with anything he could have laid his hands on, but there were reasons why he forbore: in the first place it would not have been manly" to do so in the presence of ladies; in the next, however personally obnoxious, the captain was one of our allies; and lastly, when he surveyed the Frenchman's thewes and sinews, it struck him as not improbable that-Briton though he was-he might get rather the worst of it; so he contented himself with looking daggers, if he used none.

Prosper Chasseloup had all the quickness of intelligence which distinguishes the people of Provence, and saw at a glance that Albert Criddle was an admirer of Isabella Crake; he conjectured, moreover, from indications perceptible only to a very rapid observer, that the lady did not care much about her companion. To consider him as a rival whose pretensions were dangerous was, therefore, quite out of the question, and he simply set him down as a convenient cousin, perhaps a brother. By adopting this course he could, without difficulty, afford to be polite, though every mark of politeness which he bestowed upon the manly

Criddle was gall and wormwood to him. What vexed that gentleman more than anything else was the circumstance of his understanding so very little of the conversation which seemed to afford such remarkable pleasure to the exulting stockbroker; though the satisfaction of Mr. Crake himself might have been less had he known as much of female penchants as he did of "preference" shares of a different description.

To show the English party over the ground occupied by the 38th was a duty eagerly performed by Captain Chasseloup and Surgeon-Major Tanfin. Its situation was the pleasantest of any, being on the slope of a hill which commanded a magnificent view of the sea, with glimpses of little bays winding in, caught between the bold promontories that broke the line of the coast. The stockbroker was desirous of pointing out the heights of Dover, but had left his glass in the carriage, and, nolens volens, Albert Criddle was sent back to fetch it. In the mean time the camp of the 38th was examined, Mr. Crake leading the way with Isabel on his arm, and occasionally volunteering a second-hand translation, for the general behoof, of the explanations offered by Captain Chasseloup, who walked on the other side of his daughter.

"Is it not a charming idea, papa? this beautiful garden, made, Captain Chasseloup says, with his own hands, is shaped like the Croix de la Legion d'Honneur; he wears one you perceive, only smaller, on his own breast. Those parterres, too, filled with red and blue and white flowers, represent the national drapeaux-borne so often to victory!"

"The craw of the Legion," said Mr. Crake, "and the national drappoes; you see 'em, Pike,-quite in your way, ain't they? Oh, here's Criddle,-thank'ee my boy,-I say, that's the Capten's craw!"

"D-n his caw," muttered the irritated Albert; "I wish I was in it, I'd soon stangle him!" And, having given vent to this friendly sentiment, he dropped to the rear and joined the pensive Ruggles, whom he found still absorbed in thoughts of twinkling feet and many-coloured. bottines.

It would occupy more time than I have at my command were I to relate all that was said and done, de part et d'autre, by our English friends and their courteous hosts; even that which interested the fair Isabel herself must be left untold, to enable me to record the issue of her visit to the Camp. You may fancy, however, that something did interest her when I mention, that after she was gone Captain Prosper Chasseloup very nearly stifled little Tanfin in his ardent embrace, as he exclaimed: "Ah, cette charmante miss! Elle m'a promis d'aller demain soir au bal de l'Etablissement!"

If, therefore, there was "a sound of revelry by night" in the gay salon on the beach which the Anglo-Boulonnaises love so well; if the prettiest girl in the room was waltzing with the tallest and handsomest officer there; if, darkly scowling apart, a gloomy face was seen whose lineaments resembled those of Albert Criddle, is it necessary to say that Isabel Crake had kept her promise, and that Prosper Chasseloup was intensely happy?

"Ichad," said Albert to his faithful shadow, as they stood in the doorway,- "what would you do if you was me?"

"I'd take the wind out of that chap's sails and dance with her myself," replied Ruggles, responding to the appeal.

Mr. Criddle waited till the music ceased and then strode forward.

"Next set?" he asked, with as much indifference as he could assume. "Thank you," replied Isabel, scarcely turning her head, "I am engaged."

"When then? The one afta?"

Isabel made no answer, and Albert repeated the question.

"I wish you would not tease so, Mr. Criddle. I'm engaged all the evening. Besides, the next is not a quadrille."

"I can dance otha things, Miss Cake, besides quadills, and make otha people dance too!"

"Then I wish you'd look for a partner somewhere else, Mr. Criddle." "Look!" ejaculated Criddle, who, by-the-by, had a cast in his eye"look!"

And he cast a withering scowl at Chasseloup. But it did no damage in that quarter, though a good deal in another, for glancing off the French officer's elbow, it fell full upon the stockbroker, who was sitting on the other side of the room.

"What the devil does Criddle mean ?" said he to himself, "by looking at me in that kind of way!"

Chasseloup saw that something had gone wrong with Albert, but affected to be ignorant of the cause.

"Vous voulez trouver un vis-à-vis, monsieur?" he said with a smile. "Mais je me trompe, ce n'est pas une contredanse cette fois; au contraire, c'est un polka. Apparemment, monsieur, vous n'avez par de parténaire. Mademoiselle me ferez-vous l'honneur!"

The next moment Isabel and Prosper were in rapid motion, and Albert Criddle discharged another of his fatal glances, which a second time missed the mark and again took effect on the stockbroker, who this time became downright angry, and straightway registered one of those famous vows of his about "bringing him up by-and-by."

"What's a vizzavee, 'Uggles?" asked Albert, as soon as he reached his friend. "You've got your pocket Nugent about you; just look."

Ruggles took out his little dictionary, and finding the word after some trouble, having looked for it under the letter W, replied:

"Wizzawee,'-' opposite.""

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"I thought so," returned Criddle. "Now then, 'Uggles, you'll stand my fend! I needn't tell love for Isabel Cake! You saw me of my go and ask her to dance. She 'efused me for that long-legged Fenchman, and what do you think he said? Voo voolly toovy un vizzavee musseer;' as much as to say he was 'eady to fight me. I want you, 'Ichad, to take him a message."

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Ruggles sympathised sincerely with his friend, for he, too, had known the tender passion, he, too, had been rejected," a thing," he said, "which plays 'ell with a feller's 'appiness," and gave a prompt assent to Albert's request. The only difficulty was how to manage the form of the cartel, whether by writing or by word of mouth.

The two friends withdrew from the room to consult on the matter on the esplanade outside. They came at last to the conclusion that the best way of accomplishing their object would be to wait till the ball broke up, and then for Ruggles to arrest Captain Chasseloup on his way home. The opportunity occurred as they had anticipated. The shadow cast by a dead wall afforded Albert Criddle a place of concealment from whence he could see the faithless Isabel (so he chose to consider her) Sept.-VOL. CII. NO. CCCCV.

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handed to her fly by Chasseloup, and hear the cordial "bong swaw" of the stockbroker, as he shook hands with the obnoxious officer. As soon as the fly started, Ruggles stepped out into the moonlight and confronted Chasseloup and Tanfin as they were lighting their cigars. Our friend Ruggles having only got together the few words which he supposed necessary for the occasion, wasted no time in preliminaries, but went to the point at once.

"Musseer Capten," said he, " mong ammy Criddle invite you to meet him demang mattin aveck voter ammy, on the sands here avong dejuny before breakfast."

Only two or three words of this address were intelligible to Prosper Chasseloup, but they were quite sufficient to help him to a conclusion. "Avec plaisir, monsieur," he replied; "nous n'y manquerons pas. A quelle heure dejeunez-vous ?"

Ruggles was in exactly the same situation as the captain had been, but he knew the meaning of "quelle heure," and made answer : "Sank hoor," musseer."

"Diable!" exclaimed Chasseloup, "c'est assez matinal. Mais nous avons accepté. Où demeurez-vous ?"

Ruggles guessed by his manner that the Frenchman was asking him where the meeting was to take place, and pointing to the sands simply said "Lar." Now, as the Hotel du Pavillon was just visible from the spot where they stood, Chasseloup supposed the Englishman's friend there, and in his turn said "Là ?" Ruggles nodded he was at the end of his French, and thinking that he was perfectly understood, merely added "Pistols," and immediately withdrew to join his impatient friend. "Quels drôles de gens, que ces Anglais !" exclaimed Tanfin. “ Dejeuner à cinq heures! C'est incroyable."

"N'importe," replied Chasseloup; "après le dejeuner nous irons voir cette charmante Miss!"

*

*

The gallant officer was mistaken. When he reached the Camp he found that an order had just been received from Paris for the 38th to march at daylight to embark on board of one of the English men-of-war at Calais. He was consequently disappointed both of the odd breakfast and of the pleasant flirtation he had anticipated. Albert Criddle was disappointed also,for after having passed the night in writing a farewell letter to Isabel Crake, and practising with an imaginary weapon till Ruggles came into his room with real ones (which he had borrowed from Mr. O'Leary), he turned out upon the beach intent on cruel slaughter, expecting enemies who never made their appearance. Miss Isabel, too, was disappointed, for instead of Prosper Chasseloup, whose initials she was beginning to work on the corner of a handkerchief, to be exchanged for the one which had been worn beneath the Cross of the Legion of Honour, there arrived" boring" as she said-" nobody but Albert Criddle." I leave you to imagine the reception he met with, especially when he began by abusing our gallant allies in general, and Captain Chasseloup in particular. He is not yet restored to the good graces of Miss Crake, who firmly believes that "her hero" was ordered away in consequence of the "impertinent folly" of Albert Criddle, while Albert Criddle feels equally convinced, and has said so a hundred times to Ruggles, that "all Fenchmen are cowwads!"

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