UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 CAROLINA 
 
 OLIVER OP TIC'S 
 
 Librar 
 
 boot o r Library 
 
 ARISKi&tf.NAV/ STORIES. 
 
 A Library for Young and Old, in six volumes. 
 idmo. Illustrated. Per vol., $1.50. 
 
 The Sailor Boy, or Jack 
 Somers in the Navy. 
 
 The Yankee Middy, or 
 
 Adventures of a Naval Officer. 
 
 Brave Old. Salt, or Life on 
 the Quarter Deck. 
 
 The Soldier Boy, or Tom 
 
 Somers in the Army. 
 
 The Young Lieutenant, 
 
 Or The Adventures of an Army Officer. 
 
 Fighting Joe, or the Fortunes 
 nf a Staff Officer. 
 
 " The writings of Oliver Optic are the most pe- 
 culiarly fitted tor juvenile readers of any works 
 now published. There is a freshness and vivacity 
 about tliem which is very engaging to older read- 
 ers. The benefit which a young miud will ob- 
 tain from reading the healthy descriptions, full of 
 zest and life, and, withal, containing a great deal 
 of very useful information, is almost incalcula- 
 ble." — Toledo Blade. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S 
 
 RIVERDALE STORIES. 
 
 Twelve volumes. Profusely illustrated from new 
 
 designs by Billings. In neat box. 
 
 Cloth. Per vol., 45 c. 
 
 Little Merchant. 
 Young Voyagers. 
 Christmas Grift. 
 Dolly and I. 
 Uncle Ben. 
 Birthday- Party. 
 Proud and Xjazy. 
 Careless Kate. 
 Robinson Crusoe, Jr. 
 The Picnic Party. 
 The G-old Thimble. 
 The Do-Somethings. 
 
 •* Anxious mothers who wish to keep their boys 
 out of mischief, will do well to keep their hands 
 filled with one of the numerous volumes of Oliver 
 Optic. They all have a good moral, are full of 
 fascinating incidents mingled with instruction, 
 and teach that straight-forwardness is best." — 
 News. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S 
 
 MAGAZINE. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC, Editor. 
 
 Published Monthly. 
 Each number contains : 
 Part of a NEW STORY, by the Editor. 
 STORIES and SKETCHES, by popular 
 
 authors. 
 An ORIGINAL DIALOGUE. 
 A DECLAMATION. 
 PUZZLES, REBUSES, &c. 
 All Handsomely Illustrated. 
 Terms: $2.50 per year; 25 cts. per number. 
 
 Sold Everywhere. 
 
 ^Remember, this Magazine 
 contains more reading matter 
 than any other juvenile maga- 
 zine published. 
 
 Specimen copies sent free by mail on appli- 
 cation. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S 
 
 YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD. 
 
 A Library of Travel and Adventure in Foreign 
 
 Lands. 16mo. Illustrated by Nast, 
 
 Stevens, Perkins, and others. 
 
 Per volume, $1.50. 
 
 Outward. "Bound, or Young 
 
 America Afloat. 
 
 Shamrock & Thistle, or 
 
 Young America in Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 Red. Cross, or Young America in 
 England and Wales. 
 
 Dikes & Ditches, or Young 
 America in Holland and Belgium. 
 
 Palace & Cottage, or Young 
 America in France and Switzerland. 
 
 Do>vn the Rhine, or Young 
 America in Germany. 
 
 " These are by far the most instructive books 
 written by this popular author, and while main- 
 taining throughout enough of excitement and ad- 
 venture to enchain the interest of the ^youthfu 
 reader, there is still a great amount ot informa- . 
 tion conveyed respecting the history, natural fea- : 
 tures, and geography of this far-off land, and the • 
 peculiarities of the places and people which they ■ 
 contain."— Gazette. g 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 / 
 
ft 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S 
 
 LAKE SHORE SERIES. 
 
 Six Vols., Illust. Per vol., #1.25. 
 
 Through by Daylight ; 
 
 Or, The Young Engineer of the Lake 
 Shore Railroad. 
 
 Lightning Express ; 
 
 Or, The Rival Academies. 
 
 On Time; 
 
 Or, The Young Captain of the Ucayga 
 Steamer. 
 
 Switch Off; 
 
 Or, The War of the Students. 
 
 Brake Up; 
 
 Or, The Young Peacemakers. 
 
 Bear and Forbear ; 
 
 Or, The Young Skipper of Lake Ucayga. 
 
 Oliver Optic owes his popularity to a pleasant 
 style, and to a ready sympathy with the dreams, 
 hopes, aspirations, and fancies of the young people 
 for whom he writes. He writes like a wise, over- 
 grown boy, ahd his books have therefore a fresh- 
 ness and raciness rarely attained by his fellow 
 scribes. — Christian Advocate. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S 
 
 STARRY FLAG SERIES. 
 
 Six Vols., Illust. Per vol., $1.25. 
 
 The Starry Flag; 
 
 Or, The Young Fisherman of Cape Ann. 
 
 Breaking Away; 
 
 Or, The Fortunes of a Student. 
 
 Seek and Find; 
 
 Or, The Adventures of a Smart Boy. 
 
 Freaks of Fortune ; 
 
 Or, Half Round the World 
 
 Make or Break; 
 
 Or, The Rich Man's Daughter. 
 
 Down the River; 
 
 Or, Buck Bradford and his Tyrants. 
 
 These books are exciting narratives, and full of 
 stirring adventures, but the youthful heroes of the 
 stories are noble, self-sacrificing, and courageous, 
 and the stories contain nothing which will do 
 injury to the mind or heart of the youthful reader. 
 — Webster Times. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S 
 
 BOAT CLUB SERIES. 
 
 Six Vols., Illust. Per vol., $i. 25. 
 The Boat Club ; 
 
 Or, The Bunkers of Rippleton. 
 
 All Aboard; 
 
 Or, Life on the Lake. 
 
 Now or Never ; 
 
 Or, the Adventures of Bobby Bright. 
 
 Try Again ; 
 
 Or, The Trials and Triumphs of Harry 
 
 West. 
 
 Poor and Proud; 
 
 Or, The Fortunes of Katy Redburn. 
 
 Little by Little ; 
 
 Or The Cruise of the Flyaway. 
 
 Boys and girls have no taste for dry and tame 
 things; they want something that w'ill stir the 
 blood and warm the heart. Optic always does 
 this, while at the same time he improves the taste 
 and elevates the moral nature. The coming gen- 
 eration of men will never know how much they 
 are indebted for what is pure and enobling to his 
 
 writings. — R. 1. Schoolmate. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S 
 
 WOODVILLE STORIES. 
 
 Six Vols., Illust. PeR vol., $1.2$. 
 Rich and Humble; 
 
 Or, The Mission of Bertha Grant. 
 
 In School and Out; 
 
 Or, the Conquest of Richard Grant. 
 
 Watch and Wait; 
 
 Or, The Young Fugitives. 
 
 Work and Win; 
 
 Or, Noddy Newman on a Cruise. 
 
 Hope and Have; 
 
 Or, Fanny Grant among the Indians. 
 
 Haste and Waste; 
 
 Or, The Young Pilot of Lake Cham- 
 plain. 
 
 Oliver Optic is the apostolic successor, at the 
 " Hub," of Peter Parley. He has just completed 
 the " Woodville Stories," by the publication of 
 "Haste and Waste." The best notice to give of 
 them is to mention that a couple of youngsters 
 pulled them out of the pile two hours since, and 
 are yet devouring them out in the summer-house 
 (albeit autumn leaves cover it) oblivious to muffin 
 time. — N. Y. Leader. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://archive.org/details/bivouacbattleorsOOopti 
 

 

THE UPWARD AND ONWARD SERIES. 
 
 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE; 
 
 STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 
 
 BY 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD," "THE ARMY AND NAVY 8TORIE6,' 
 
 "TIIE WOODVILLE STORIES," "THE BOAT-CLUB STORIES," "TUB 
 
 STARRY FLAG SERIES," " TIIE LAKE-SHORE 
 
 SERIES," ETC. 
 
 
 WITH FOURTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM. 
 
 1873. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, 
 
 By WILLIAM T. ADAMS, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 ELECTROTYTED AT TITE 
 
 BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY, 
 
 19 Spring Lane. 
 
6o 
 
 no 
 
 my Youisra- FRIEND 
 FRANK C. FOSTER, 
 
 OF CANANDAIGUA, N. Y., 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 
 
THE TJPWAKD AND ONWAKD SEEIES. 
 
 1. Field and Forest; or, The Fortunes of a Farmer. 
 
 2. Plane and FlanJc ; or, The Mishaps of a Mechanic. 
 
 3. Desk and Debit ; or, The Catastrophes of a Clerk. 
 
 4. Cringle and Cross-Tree ; or, The Sea Swashes 
 
 of a Sailor. 
 
 5. Bivouac and Battle ; or, The Struggles of a Soldier. 
 
 IN PREPARATION. 
 
 6. Sea and SJtor'e ; or, The Tramps of a Traveller. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 "Bivouac and Battle" is the fifth of the Onward and 
 Upward Series, in which Phil Farringford appears as a soldier. 
 The events of the story are located in New York, on the Atlan- 
 tic, in England, and at the seat of war in Italy in 1859. The 
 hero continues to be a Christian young man, who labors to 
 make his life an upward and onward progress, even while his 
 adventures are stirring and exciting; though perhaps it is more 
 difficult to be honest, upright, and noble in the dull monotony 
 of an uneventful career than in one filled with changing inci- 
 dents, and checkered with life's vicissitudes. Whatever hap- 
 pens to Phil, he is always true to himself, true to his friends, 
 and true to his God. 
 
 Larry Grimsby appears at first as a reckless young man, 
 addicted to the vices which are unhappily so often embraced by 
 the young, especially in large cities. Phil obtains an influence 
 over him, by the events of the story, which proves to be ben- 
 
 5 
 
6 PEEFACE. 
 
 eficial to his friend. The episode of Mr. Fennimore, the bank 
 officer, contains the history of too many, in the present genera- 
 tion, who are tempted to do wrong in the beginning, with the 
 intention of making restitution" at a future time, but are carried 
 away into the vortex of crime, from which they find it impos- 
 sible to escape. 
 
 The reader will doubtless sympathize with Phil Farringford 
 in the happiness of seeing his family united under one roof, in 
 peace, joy, and prosperity; and it is hoped that he will not fail 
 to observe that this result is achieved by the practice of Chris- 
 tian principles, which saved his father from intemperance, and 
 enabled him to bring his parents together. 
 
 Harrison Square, Boston, 
 
 November 25, 1871. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. PAGE 
 
 In which Phil Earringford falls in with Larry 
 
 Grimsbt 11 
 
 . CHAPTER II. 
 In which Phil learns more about Larry Grimsby, 
 
 and the Train arrives at New York 24 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 In which Phil completes his Preparations for the 
 
 Voyage, and goes on Board the Steamer. ... 38 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 In which Phil walks about the Deck, and finds 
 
 another Grimsby 51 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 In which Phil listens to the Defaulter's Story, and 
 becomes better acquainted with Blanche Eenni- 
 more 65 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 In which Phil has a melancholy Passage across the 
 
 Atlantic 80 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 In which Phil and his Friend visit Grimsby Hall, 
 
 and are present at a melancholy occasion. . . 94: 
 
 (7) 
 
8 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 In which Phil shows that he has a Talent foe keep- 
 ing still, and Larry becomes a Hero 108 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 In which Phil relates the Story the Baronet told, 
 
 and Larry meets Blanche in the Garden. . . . 122 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 In which Phil and Larry go to London, and Miles 
 ' Grimsby is very much excited 136 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 In which Phil and Larry make the Acquaintance of 
 a Man with a preposterous Hat, and start for 
 Italy 150 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 In which Phil and Larry continue their Journey, 
 
 and meet a french general of brigade 163 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 In which Phil and Larry become Soldiers, and 
 
 spend their first nlght in blvouac 177 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 In which Phil and Larry move forward with the 
 
 Army, and decide to visit Milan 191 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 In which Phil and Larry float down the Canal, and 
 
 ARE DISTURBED BY FRENCH PlCKET GUARDS 205 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 In which Phil and Larry discuss the Situation, and 
 
 face a Drum-head Court-martial 219 
 
CONTENTS. 9 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 In which Phil and Larry are saved from a hard 
 
 Fate by a Movement of the Brigade 233 
 
 • CHAPTER XVIII. 
 In which Phil and Larry solve a Problem, and the 
 
 Italian makes a bad Move 246 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 In which Phil invents and launches an Aquatic Ma- 
 chine, AND PREPARES TO CROSS THE TlCINO 260 
 
 CHAPTER XX. \ 
 In which Phil and Larry take Part in the Battle 
 
 of Magenta, and visit Milan 273 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 In which Phil is identified by his Mother, and 
 
 Larry goes to England 286 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 In which Phil remonstrates with Larry, who de- 
 cides to go up in a Balloon 300 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 In which Phil is very anxious about Larry, who 
 
 has a perilous adventure in the balloon. . . . 314 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 In which Phil and Larry visit Grimsby Hall, and 
 
 return to america 327 
 
BIVOUAC AND BATTLE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL FARRINGFORD FALLS IN WITH LARRY 
 GRIMSBY. 
 
 "ELP! Help!" 
 
 I uttered these impressive words myself, 
 for I felt that my lamp of life was on the point 
 of being extinguished. I had struggled till my 
 strength was exhausted, and I had lost all hope of 
 being able to extricate myself from the perilous 
 sitijation in which -I was placed. 
 
 Unfortunately, railroad accidents are too com- 
 mon in the United States to need a detailed de- 
 scription. I was on my way from St. Louis to 
 New York, intending to embark in a steamer for 
 Europe. I was tired of the monotony of the rail- 
 road train, and only anxious to reach my destina- 
 
 11 
 
12 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 tion. It was the last day of the long journey, — 
 longer then than now, — and late in the evening I 
 expected to be in the great city ; but our best laid 
 calculations often end in defeat and disaster. I 
 had bought a book of the boy who frequently 
 passed through the train with a bundle of literary 
 merchandise. The work was David Copperfield, 
 and I was following with intense interest the for- 
 tunes of the hero, when suddenly I heard a crash- 
 ing sound under us, as the cars were crossing a 
 bridge. The structure had given way, and the 
 carriage dropped down into the stream. 
 
 In another instant the passengers were strug- 
 gling in the water, which, in the part where I was, 
 rose nearly to the ceiling thereof. I had so often 
 confronted danger and disaster, that I did not 
 regard the situation as at all desperate. I stood 
 on the seat, and thus elevated my head above the 
 water. I had been sitting by a window. It was 
 one of the earliest days in May, and the weather 
 was remarkably warm. During the hour preceding 
 the disaster, I had raised the sash a dozen times ; 
 but the fastenings were out of order, and it would 
 persist in coming down with a smash as often as I 
 adjusted it. I had tried to wedge it up with a roll 
 
 : 
 
THE STRUGGLES 0~F A SOLDIER. 13 
 
 of paper; but this experiment had failed, and I 
 was so much interested in Copperfield, that I 
 abandoned further attempts to supply myself with 
 fresh air for the moment. 
 
 Stooping down from my standing position on the 
 chair, I raised the window ; but the upper part of 
 the aperture was at least a foot under water. I 
 heard people at work on the roof with axes, cut- 
 ting a hole through which the passengers might 
 make their escape ; but I was afraid the service 
 would be rendered too late for some of them. My 
 end of the car was sunk deeper than the other in 
 the water ; but the passengers were crowded 
 together in that part, and the door there seemed 
 to be obstructed by the debris of the shattered 
 carriages in the rear. My impulse, therefore, was 
 to effect my exit from the dangerous situation by 
 the window nearest to me. 
 
 Having lifted the sash, the way seemed to be 
 clear and practicable, as I was a strong and skilful 
 swimmer, and was almost as much at home in the 
 water as on the land. But that window, which had 
 vexed me so much while I was reading, was 
 destined to give me more- serious trouble than 
 before. Holding the sash with my hand, I dropped 
 
14 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 my head quickly under the surface of the water, 
 thrust it through the open window, and crowded 
 my body after it. Of course, in doing this I was 
 obliged to release my hold of the sash. Springing 
 for the surface of the water outside of the car, I 
 believed my individual trials nearly at an end. 
 Unluckily, the sash was loose enough to fall by its 
 own weight even in the water, and in spite of the 
 swelling of the wood-work, which it must have 
 caused. It dropped upon my legs, and shut down 
 tightly upon my ankles in such a way that I 
 found it quite impossible to release them from 
 its grip. 
 
 In vain I twisted my body, squirmed, and strug- 
 gled. The sash seemed to be wedged immovably 
 upon my legs. The end of the car also appeared 
 to be sinking deeper in the water, and with my 
 utmost efforts I could only occasionally get my 
 head to the surface of the river for a breath of air. 
 I felt that my last moment on earth had come, and 
 having shouted for help, I commended my soul to 
 God, and prayed for my father and mother, that 
 they might be reunited, in a single phrase. The 
 men who were cutting the hole in the top of the 
 car did not seem to see me ; but after I had cried 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 15 
 
 for assistance, I was conscious that some one 
 came to the edge of the roof, near me. I strug- 
 gled again. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " was the question that 
 hardly penetrated my semi-conscious brain. 
 
 I could make no reply ; I could only gasp, as I 
 succeeded for an instant in getting my mouth to 
 the surface again. 
 
 " Help ! Help ! " 
 
 My friend on the top dropped into the water. 
 I felt his hand upon my legs, but it was still some 
 time before he succeeded in releasing me, for he 
 was obliged to operate under the surface of the 
 stream. He worked my deliverance at last, and I 
 rose into the free air of heaven. My strength was 
 all gone ; I had not even enough left to climb to 
 the roof of the carriage ; and I should certainly 
 have sunk and perished if my deliverer had not 
 grasped me with his strong arm, and dragged me 
 upon the top of the car. The end which had been 
 the scene of my struggles was now partially sub- 
 merged ; but I sat down near the verge of the 
 water, to recover my exhausted energies. 
 
 By this time the axe-men had made a hole large 
 enough to permit the passage of the unfortunate 
 
16 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 passengers beneath me. My strength came back 
 to me in a few moments, and I walked to the 
 shore. I had the consolation of seeing and know- 
 ing, that if I had remained in the car, as my com- 
 panions had done, I should have been saved with- 
 out a struggle for myself. Happily, in this instance 
 not a single passenger was killed, though several 
 were more or less injured. A poor brakeman was 
 instantly deprived of life by being crushed in the 
 falling train. As soon as I recovered my powers 
 of mind and body, I began to look about me with 
 interest for the brave and unselfish fellow who 
 had saved my life. He had accomplished it at no 
 little peril and effort, and my gratitude for my 
 preservation was unbounded. I thanked God 
 with all my heart for his goodness to me, for I felt 
 that I owed my safety first to him, and next to my 
 gallant friend. I discovered him still busy in his 
 wet garments, rendering assistance to the injured 
 and terrified passengers. As I was now com- 
 pletely restored, I felt able to do something my- 
 self. I worked for half an hour, till we had done 
 everything within our means for the comfort of 
 the injured. 
 
 The forward part of the train, including the 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 17 
 
 baggage and two passenger cars, had crossed the 
 bridge in safety, while two more had fallen 
 through the broken timbers. One of these was 
 almost a total wreck, and was now half under 
 water, while the other rested half on the bridge 
 and half in the stream. 
 
 I went to the baggage car, and found my trunk, 
 from which I took a change of clothing, and put 
 it on in the smoking-car saloon. The conductor 
 had sent the engine and tender forward to the 
 next considerable station for assistance, and in 
 due time it returned with a large gang of men 
 and several cars. Another train was soon made 
 up after its arrival, and in three hours from the 
 accident we were again on our way to New York. 
 As soon as the cars started, I sought again for my 
 deliverer, whose labors were now ended. I did 
 not find him at first, but I walked through the 
 train till I discovered him, seated alone in front 
 of one who had been injured by the calamity, 
 whom he seemed to have in charge. 
 
 " My friend, I owe you a debt of gratitude 
 which I shall never be able to discharge," I 
 began. 
 
 " You ? Ton my word, I don't know that I 
 2 
 
18 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 ever saw you before in my life," replied he, open- 
 ing his eyes, and looking at me all over. 
 
 " Indeed ! Don't you remember that you 
 rescued me at the car window, when I was com- 
 plete^ 7 used up?" 
 
 " 0, are you the individual ? No, you are not ; 
 he was dressed in light clothes." 
 
 " But I was wet and uncomfortable, and I 
 changed my dress." 
 
 "That's it! Well, you look like the fellow I 
 helped out. By the way, that was an odd kind of 
 a scrape you got into." 
 
 " It was, indeed ; and without your help, I 
 should not have been among the living at this 
 moment." 
 
 11 So ? " said he, with a smile. 
 
 " I speak 'only the literal truth. I assure you 
 my heart is full of gratitude to you for your noble 
 efforts in my behalf." 
 
 " 0, never mind that. A fellow can't help doing 
 what he can for one that needs his assistance in 
 such a scrape as that. This is the third time in 
 five years I have been smashed on a railroad train, 
 and never had a hair of my head damaged. 'Pon 
 my word, I'm getting used to such things, and if 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 19 
 
 I have many more, I shall learn to enjoy the ex- 
 citement of them. Going to New York ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " So am I." 
 
 " Then I hope I shall see more of you, and be 
 able to express my gratitude to you, at least, if I 
 am not permitted to do anything more." 
 
 " Never mind that, Mr. Jones ; don't say another 
 word about it. I hate gratitude ; and if you had 
 saved my life, I don't believe I should feel a bit 
 of gratitude." 
 
 " However you may feel, I am certainly very 
 grateful to you, and I shall never forget, or cease 
 to appreciate, your service to me." 
 
 " Don't do it, Mr. Jones. As a special favor to 
 me, forget all about it, and cease at once to ap- 
 preciate, and all that sort of thing." 
 
 " I cannot be so heartless, my friend." 
 
 " Try, Mr. Jones ; try. I hate to place any one 
 under obligations to me." 
 
 " I certainly will not burden you with the ex- 
 pression of my gratitude, since it is offensive to 
 you ; but I cannot help feeling it." 
 
 " All right, Mr. Jones ; I don't care what 
 you feel, if you don't compel me to feel it, too," 
 
20 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 laughed he. " You seem to be a good fellow, Mr. 
 Jones." 
 
 " My name is Farringford." 
 
 " Excuse me, Mr. Farringford, for I have a habit 
 of calling everybody Jones when I don't know his 
 name. I'm not a Yankee ; but I have a habit of 
 asking questions. I dare say Farringford is not 
 all your name." 
 
 " Not quite. My first name is Philip ; but my 
 intimate friends usually call me Phil." 
 
 " That's a capital name ; and as I claim to be 
 your intimate friend, I shall take the liberty to call 
 you Phil, for I can't afford to utter anybody's name 
 when it consists of three syllables. I can get off 
 two very well, but I always break down on three. 
 My name is Lawrence Grimsby, but everybody 
 that knows me calls me Larry ; and you will oblige 
 me by adopting the custom of my intimates. 
 Larry, at your service. What's this ? " asked he, 
 as the train began to break up. 
 
 It was an important station, and our car stopped 
 directly before the refreshment saloon. Larry rose 
 in his seat, and looked out at the window. 
 
 " That's a refreshment saloon," said he. 
 
 " Yes ; there is the sign." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 21 
 
 " Phil, you're evidently a good fellow," he 
 added, looking at me, though I could perceive a 
 peculiar embarrassment in his manner. 
 
 " I try to do my duty to myself and my friends/' 
 I replied. 
 
 " I thought so. I shall do you the honor to let 
 you pay for a light lunch for me. I'm hungry, 
 and I'm dead broke — two things as consistent 
 with each other as they are annoying and uncom- 
 fortable to me." 
 
 " Certainly, my dear Larry — " 
 
 " Hold on, Phil ! Don't you go to dearing me ; 
 I won't stand it ; and if you do so, 'pon my word I 
 won't let you disburse a red cent for me." 
 
 " Come along, Larry. You shall have your own 
 will in everything," I answered, leading the way 
 out of the car, and into the refreshment saloon. 
 
 His humor was so peculiar that I dared not say 
 anything more to give vent to my feelings. I was 
 absolutely shocked when he said he was hungry, 
 and had no money. My heart swelled with emo- 
 tion, and even my eyes were disposed to shed a 
 few tears ; for it was really horrible to think of 
 my deliverer being actually hungry. I would 
 have given him my purse at once, and I was 
 
22 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 burning to pour out my gratitude in words, but I 
 dared not do either. It was the middle of the 
 afternoon, and I had dined about two o'clock, so 
 that I was not hungry myself. Probably for the 
 want of funds he had not dined at all, or he could 
 not have been in his present condition in a couple 
 of hours. He ate oysters, hard-boiled eggs, cold 
 ham, pies and cakes, like one who had not tasted 
 food for twenty -four hours. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, Phil," said he, as he con- 
 tinued his meal with unabated relish. 
 
 " I am not alarmed," I replied, as I took a piece 
 of cake, rather for the sociability of eating with 
 him than because I wanted it. " Help yourself, 
 and be entirely at home." 
 
 " I hope your funds are in good condition, 
 Phil," laughed he. 
 
 " In very good condition, indeed." 
 
 " I'm an odd stick, Phil, and don't eat every 
 day in the week." 
 
 "You don't!" 
 
 " Of course not. It would be a waste of time ; 
 but when I do eat, I make a business of it, for I 
 may not think it worth while to do this thing 
 again for a day or two." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 23 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " Because it doesn't pay to keep eating all the 
 time. Your jolly old philosopher, Dr. Franklin, 
 got up a calculation of the vast quantity of grub 
 that a useless fellow consumes ; but he didn't 
 figure up the time that is wasted in dining-rooms 
 and refreshment saloons." 
 
 " I don't think the people of this country waste 
 any time at their meals." 
 
 " A very just observation, Phil. Possibly, if I 
 always found a dollar in my pocket when I put 
 my hand into it, I might alter my views," added 
 Larry, with a sickly smile, as the bell rang for the 
 train to start. " That means you and me. I've 
 eaten all I want. Humph ! I may not do it again 
 for a week." 
 
 I paid the bill, which amounted to one dollar 
 and forty cents, with a pleasure I cannot express, 
 and we took our seats in the train again. 
 
24 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL LEARNS MORE ABOUT LARRY GRIMSBY, 
 AND THE TRAIN ARRIVES AT NEW YORK. 
 
 I HAVE introduced the railroad accident, which" 
 is too common an event to be a novelty, in 
 order solely to present Larry Grimsby to my 
 friends. I am sure, if I had met him under any 
 other circumstances, I should not have thought of 
 making his acquaintance. He was a young man 
 of eighteen or nineteen, which was about my own 
 age. Physically he was well formed, and his face 
 was rather a good-looking one ; but here, to a casual 
 observer of my own tastes and habits, his attrac- 
 tions would have ceased. He was well dressed, 
 but his appearance was rather flashy. His pants 
 were of light material, with an enormous plaid 
 upon them. His vest was marked with an absurd 
 perpendicular stripe, and his coat was of light 
 green, cut in the jauntiest style of the time. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 25 
 
 Although, under other circumstances, he was 
 not a person whose acquaintance I should have 
 sought, I realized that he was a noble fellow at 
 heart. If there had been no railroad accident, I 
 might have despised him as long as I remembered 
 him, for the " cut of his jib " prejudiced me against 
 him. For a young man, he was a very eccentric 
 one. While he objected to any expression of 
 gratitude on my part, he did not hesitate to ask 
 me to pay for his lunch. Independent of the 
 priceless service he had rendered me, I confess 
 that I felt a deep interest in him. He acknowl- 
 edged that he had not even money enough to pay 
 for his dinner, and, after his fashion, had declared 
 that he did not expect to have another meal for a 
 day or two. I looked at him, and tried to make 
 up my mind what he was ; but he was a problem 
 to me, and I could not fathom him. 
 
 " I feel better, Phil," said he, as we resumed our 
 seats in the car. 
 
 " I should think you would, if you had not been 
 to dinner," I replied, hoping to draw him out. 
 
 " I certainly had not been to dinner, and hardly 
 to breakfast. I haven't even one cent of money, 
 or anything that I can turn into money. I sold 
 
26 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 my watch in Buffalo to obtain the means to pay 
 my fare to New York." 
 
 " But you have friends? " 
 
 " Certainly I have ; and you are one of them." 
 
 " I mean relatives." 
 
 " Humph ! Not that I am aware of," he replied, 
 lightly. 
 
 " Where do you belong ? " 
 
 " I belong here." 
 
 " You have a home somewhere, I mean." 
 
 " A home ! " exclaimed he, with a laugh. 
 "What's that?" 
 
 '• Of course you know what a home is." 
 
 " Can't say I do, Phil." 
 
 " Did you never have a home ? " 
 
 " Never a home ; of late years, at least." 
 
 "Have you no father and mother?" I asked, 
 my interest in the young man increasing every 
 moment. 
 
 " Never saw or heard of any such individuals." 
 
 " My dear fellow — " 
 
 " Hold on, Phil ; I don't want any one sym- 
 pathizing with me. I don't need it. I never 
 had any father or mother, so far as I know, nor 
 a relative, nor any other person who cared a fi^ 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 27 
 
 for me, and I don't know but I have been the 
 gainer by it." 
 
 " I think not," I replied, shaking my head. 
 
 " Perhaps you know better than I." 
 
 " It is reasonable that a young man should be 
 the better for a mother's influence and a father's 
 care. One's parents usually teach him the ways 
 of morality and truth, give him his religious 
 impressions — " 
 
 " I don't believe in any of those things, and 
 don't trouble my head at all about them." 
 
 " You shock me." 
 
 " Do I ? " laughed he. 
 
 " You do, indeed. Don't you believe in re- 
 ligion ? " 
 
 " I believe there is such a thing, but it don't 
 trouble me, and I don't trouble religion. I do 
 about what is right when it is convenient." 
 
 " I am sure you would think more of religion, 
 and that you would desire to do what is right, 
 even when it is not wholly convenient, if you had 
 had a good mother to teach you the way of life 
 and truth." 
 
 " Don't preach, Phil; it's worse than gratitude and 
 sympathy. I'm not a perfect young man, I know." 
 
28 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Where were you born, Larry ? " 
 " I don't know ; I haven't the least idea." 
 " But you had a beginning somewhere." 
 "I was a graduate from an 1 orphan asylum when 
 I was eight years old. An old lady saw me there, 
 and thought I was a pretty boy ; so she took me 
 home with her. She gave me a very good educa- 
 tion, and I staid with her till I was fourteen years 
 old. She always used me well, and taught me 
 piety, catechism, and religion, which I got rid of 
 as soon as possible. I supposed the old lady, who 
 had plenty of money, would leave me her fortune ; 
 but she didn't do it ; and since that I have been a 
 sceptic on the subject of gratitude. I had allowed 
 her to spend her money on me, in feeding, cloth- 
 ing, and educating me, and then she was so cruel 
 as to die without making a will in my favor, or of 
 anybody else, for that matter. As soon as the 
 breath had left her body, about a dozen and a half 
 of nephews and nieces stepped in, and in due time 
 her money was equally divided among them. Not 
 a penny gladdened the interior of my purse." 
 
 " Perhaps she intended to do something for 
 you." 
 
 " I think she did ; and the ingratitude was in 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 29 
 
 the neglect to do it. She died suddenly, and 
 never knew a thing after she was taken sick, so 
 that my wheels were blocked. Not one of the 
 nieces and nephews even looked at me ; and when 
 the old lady's house was sold, I was turned out 
 into the street. Since then I have been a wander- 
 er on the face of the footstool." 
 
 " But what did you do with yourself? " I asked. 
 
 '• I found a place to work in a store ; but I didn't 
 like it, and then I learned the printing business. 
 I work as a jour printer now, when I work at all. I 
 have been cruising about the west for the last year. 
 I work a while in one place, and then move on 
 to another. 1 subbed a while in Buffalo, and then 
 got cut of a job, and had to sell my watch, as I 
 said, to enable me to get to New York." 
 
 " Don't you know anything about your parents ? " 
 
 " Not a thing ; and I haven't the least idea how 
 I happened to be in the orphan asylum. To tell 
 the truth, Phil, I don't care a fig, either. If my 
 parents didn't want me, I'm sure I don't want 
 them. If I could know who they were for the 
 asking, I wouldn't open my mouth. That's so, 
 Phil." 
 
 " You are a strange being, Larry." 
 
30 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " I know it ; and I would just as lief live as die." 
 
 « So would I." 
 
 " Well, put it the other way ; I had just as lief 
 die as live. I don't know that I care a straw for 
 anything in this world — or any other, for that 
 matter," laughed he. " Who are you, Phil ? " 
 
 I answered this blunt inquiry, though it re- 
 quired a couple of hours to satisfy his curiosity, for 
 he questioned me very closely. I told him that I 
 had been brought up in a cabin on the Upper 
 Missouri, where I had only a rough backwoodsman 
 for a companion for several years ; that I had 
 found my father in St. Louis, who had separated 
 from my mother, and that I intended to visit 
 Europe in order to find her if possible. He 
 drew out of me all the particulars of my eventful 
 history. 
 
 " Then you are as rich as mud, Phil." 
 
 " Not very rich." 
 
 " I figure up that you have three or four thou- 
 sand dollars in your own right." 
 
 " That isn't much." . - 
 
 " I'm nineteen, but I never had fifty dollars in 
 my life at one time." 
 
 " I suppose you are not careful of your money." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 31 
 
 " I'm careful to spend it as soon as I get it. 
 That's what money is for." 
 
 •'• But you can't have it and spend it too." 
 
 *' I'm not a miser." 
 
 " Nor I, any more than you. I spend money for 
 what I need, and save the rest. In that way I 
 gathered my little pile." 
 
 I took out my purse, which contained twenty- 
 two half eagles ; for at the time of which I write 
 there was no national currency, that was good in 
 all the states, and I had changed my money into 
 gold before I left the west, for the bank bills of 
 one section of the country were subject to a dis- 
 count in other sections. I turned the coins out 
 into my hand, and Larry watched me with in- 
 terest. Taking twenty of the half eagles, or one 
 hundred dollars, I handed them to him. 
 
 " Put them in your pocket," I added. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked he, taking the 
 money into his hand. 
 
 " Put them in your pocket," I repeated. " Possi- 
 bly,, when you get to New York, you will find time 
 to eat a dinner or two ; and you will need some of 
 this coin to pay the bill." 
 
 " Do I understand you to say that you make me 
 a present of these shiners ? " 
 
32 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Precisely so ; that's just what I mean, if 
 you will allow me to state it in that offensive 
 manner." 
 
 " I thank you with all my heart," said he, but 
 without much emotion. " I never was so rich 
 before in my life. You do not state on what 
 grounds you do this magnificent thing." 
 
 " Simply because you are a good fellow, Larry," 
 I replied, mindful of his instruction in regard to 
 gratitude. 
 
 " That is all-sufficient ground. By the way, 
 Phil, I helped a dozen people after the accident, 
 and you are the only one who has offered me a 
 cent for my trouble." 
 
 " Why, you would not have them attempt to pay 
 you for such service." 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " I dare say they are all very grateful to you for 
 what you did." 
 
 " I don't believe they are ; and I hope they are 
 not. Never mind them. The railroad accident 
 was the luckiest thing that has happened for me 
 in the whole course of my life," continued Larry, 
 as he chinked the coins in his hand, and then put 
 them in his pocket. " To what hotel do you go in 
 New York, Phil?" 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 33 
 
 " I thought I should go to the Western Hotel." 
 
 " That's not first-class." 
 
 " The prices are not first-class, either," I added. 
 
 " But you have plenty of money, unless you 
 have robbed yourself to enrich a good fellow." 
 
 " I have ten or a dozen dollars left," I replied. 
 
 " But I will give you back half or all you gave 
 me, if you have made yourself short." 
 
 " No, no ; I have a draft for over two thou- 
 sand dollars to pay my expenses in Europe. 
 Don't trouble yourself about the little matter I 
 gave you." 
 
 " I won't," said he, laughing. " But I thought 
 I should go to the St. Nicholas Hotel, now that I 
 have my pile." 
 
 " You will have to pay two or three dollars 
 a day." 
 
 " What of it, when a fellow has a hundred dol- 
 lars in hard shiners in his trousers pocket?" 
 
 " You won't have them, or any of them, long, if 
 you do business in that way, Larry. What hotel 
 were you going to if you had not met me ? " 
 
 " To none ; I should have gone to a cheap 
 boarding-house, and then looked out for a job in a 
 printing office. But I won't be odd, Phil. If ) t ou 
 3 
 
34 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 are going to the Western Hotel, I will go with 
 you, though it isn't first-class." 
 
 " I dare say it is quite as good as your cheap 
 boarding-house would have been," I replied. 
 
 " No doubt of that ; but circumstances alter 
 cases, and even change printers' cases some- 
 times." 
 
 " I hope you will be able to find a place to work 
 when you get to New York." 
 
 " Humph ! I don't know," he answered, measur- 
 ing off the words very slowly. " I shall not look 
 for any place." 
 
 " Not look for any ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " No, I think not." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I have plenty of money in my pocket now," 
 laughed he. " When it is gone, it will be time 
 enough to go to work." 
 
 " That's very bad philosophy," I protested, em- 
 phatically. 
 
 " 0, dear, Phil, I'm no philosopher. It would be 
 quite impossible for me to go to work with even 
 five dollars in my pocket." 
 
 " Then you are a regular vagabond, Larry." 
 
 " Phil, give me your hand ! " exclaimed he, 
 
THE STEUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 35 
 
 grasping mine. "You have hit the nail on the 
 head, exactly. I am a regular vagabond." 
 
 " But I wonld not be a vagabond, nor allow any 
 one to call me by such a name." 
 
 "I always speak the truth myself when it is 
 convenient ; and I never object when anybody 
 else does so. Here's a station, Phil, and the 
 train is stopping. Let's get out, and stretch our 
 legs." 
 
 We left the car. It was a large town, and 
 the train stopped at the side of a street, on 
 which there were hotels, saloons, and stores of 
 various kinds. 
 
 " Here we are, Phil. That's just what I was 
 looking for." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 "A bar-room. I was going to ask you to pay 
 for a glass of brandy for me ; but — " 
 
 " It would have been of no use to ask me, for no 
 amount of gratitude, or anything else, could have 
 induced me to do such a thing." 
 
 " Is that so ? " 
 
 " That's so ; most emphatically, decidedly, and 
 unalterably so." 
 
 " You interrupted what I was saying. You 
 
36 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 have put me in funds, and I was going to treat- 
 Come along, Phil. You can take a glass of wine, 
 if brandy don't agree with your constitution." 
 
 " Not a drop of anything for me/' 
 
 " You are not going to make me drink alone — 
 are you ? " 
 
 " Alone if at all, so far as I am concerned," I 
 replied. 
 
 " Take lemonade then, or some other slops." 
 
 " I will not even enter a bar-room." 
 
 " Ton my word, Phil, I didn't think so good a 
 fellow as you are could be a fanatic." 
 
 " I am a fanatic on that subject, and I mean to 
 be one to the end of my days." 
 
 " It's mean to drink alone." 
 
 " Don't do it then. We will take a cup of coffee, 
 if you like." 
 
 " All right ; coffee it is, Phil." 
 
 We drank coffee, and I paid for it. When we 
 returned to the train, I laid down my principles in 
 detail, illustrating them with the sad example of 
 my father. Larry only laughed at me for my 
 pains. I was sorry to find that the jaunty coat, 
 the striped vest, and the plaid pants had not 
 belied my new friend. I had the satisfaction of 
 
THE STEUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 37 
 
 believing that the hundred dollars I had pre- 
 sented to him would be expended in a few days 
 in extravagant living, drinks, and dissipation gen- 
 erally. I was sorry I had been so liberal ; and 
 while I was still very grateful to Larry, I was 
 almost disgusted with him. 
 
 In the small hours of the morning, four hours 
 behind time, the train arrived at New York, and 
 we made our way to the Western Hotel. 
 
38 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OB 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL COMPLETES HIS PREPAEATIONS FOR 
 THE VOYAGE, AND GOES ON BOARD THE STEAMER. 
 
 WAS grieved and mortified to find that my 
 new friend was a young man of no principle, 
 a vagabond, and, for aught I knew, a drunkard. 
 The great service he had rendered to me kept 
 prominent in my mind the nobler attributes of his 
 nature ; but I could not conceal from myself the 
 simple truth that he was a worthless fellow. I 
 had talked to him very faithfully, but with no 
 result whatever, for he only laughed at me. I do 
 not mean to say that I " preached " to him, or any- 
 thing of that sort; but as the events of our in- 
 timac}^ brought the topics to our attention, I ex- 
 pressed my convictions without reserve. 
 
 I could not believe that he was a bad young 
 man at heart, and I was satisfied that much of his 
 eccentricity was mere affectation, as it generally 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 39 
 
 is with everybody. I honestly and sincerely 
 desired to do him good, and the best thing 1 could 
 do would be to give him higher views of life than 
 he entertained, to help him to anchor his hopes 
 upon the solid foundation of moral and religious 
 principle. But I had only a day to remain in New 
 York, for the steamer sailed on Wednesday, and 
 we arrived on Monday night. I was not afraid to 
 associate with him, and while I tried to do my 
 duty by him, I also carefully avoided the errors of 
 the Pharisee and the hypocrite. 
 
 We had taken a room together in the hotel, and 
 neither of us waked till ten o'clock in the fore- 
 noon, for it was four when we retired in the morn- 
 ing. Larry worked half an hour on his pants, 
 which had been somewhat damaged in the water 
 the day before. He had a small valise, from 
 which he took a shirt with extravagant frills on 
 the bosom, and completed his elaborate toilet with 
 the nicest care. I was tired of waiting for hirn, 
 long before he had finished his labors, and went 
 down into the dining-room to order our breakfast. 
 I seated myself at the table opposite a gentleman 
 of fifty, at whose side sat a beautiful and very 
 interesting young lady of eighteen, doubtless his 
 daughter. 
 
40 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 The gentleman seemed to be very sad and 
 nervous, and to some extent the lady had the same 
 appearance, though I saw that she was striving to 
 be cheerful and happy. I looked at her as much 
 as I dared, for there was something ver}^ pleasing 
 about her. While I was casting occasional glances 
 at her, she told the gentleman she would go to her 
 room, and get ready to go out. She left the hall 
 just as Larry entered with a copy of the Herald in 
 his hand. He looked at her earnestly, and turned 
 to gaze at her as she passed out of the room. 
 
 " That's a stunning pretty girl," said he, in a 
 low tone, as he seated himself at my side. 
 
 " Hush ! That's her father," I whispered, nod- 
 ding towards the gentleman on the other side of 
 the table, who seemed to be absorbed in his own 
 gloomy thoughts, and paid no attention to us. 
 
 " She is the prettiest girl I ever laid eyes 
 on," added Larry, with enthusiasm, but in a low 
 whisper. 
 
 " What's the news ? " I asked, in order to 
 change the subject. " I see you have the paper." 
 
 " Yes, I always read the Herald at breakfast. I 
 used to stick type on it," he replied, unfolding the 
 sheet. " War in Europe," he continued, reading 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 41- 
 
 the head lines under the latest news. " Eighty 
 thousand troops sent into Italy. I should like to 
 be there, and take a hand in that row." 
 
 " You don't want to fight — do you ? " 
 
 " I do ; I have a decided taste for it. I fancy 
 there is something in me, and that it will come out 
 in time. I wasn't born to be a jour printer, and 
 when my time comes, I shall be a big man." 
 
 " That's all folly, Larry. The only way for a 
 fellow to make anything of himself is to go to 
 work like a man in whatever sphere he may find 
 himself. A jour printer may make a great man of 
 himself as well as any other man ; but this soaring 
 after the infinite, and diving into the depths of the 
 unfathomable, are all moonshine." 
 
 " You are a philosopher, Phil, of which -I am not 
 whom," laughed Larry. 
 
 He read the European news while we waited for 
 our breakfast, and as my mother was still at Nice, 
 I was deeply interested in it. 
 
 " ' Heavy defalcation,' " continued Larry, read- 
 ing from another column of the paper. " ' Our 
 city was thrown into unwonted commotion this 
 morning by the discovery of a heavy defalcation in 
 the Spring Hill Bank. The sudden disappearance 
 
42 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 of the cashier, Mr. Luther Fennimore, who has 
 hitherto borne an irreproachable character in the 
 city, suggested an examination of the affairs of the 
 bank, which unfortunately resulted in furnishing 
 the most conclusive evidence that a systematic 
 course of fraud had been practised upon the 
 directors for several years. The amount of the 
 defalcation cannot be less than one hundred thou- 
 sand dollars, and it is believed that the bank will 
 be obliged to go into liquidation. 
 
 " ' Mr. Fennimore has heretofore enjoyed the 
 entire confidence of the directors, and of the com- 
 munity, and it is painful to know that one who has 
 been so highly respected could descend to the 
 abyss of crime. Mr. Fennimore is a widower, with 
 an only daughter, a beautiful young lady, highly 
 educated and accomplished, and her father's error 
 will be a crushing blow to her. She has been on 
 a visit to a friend in New York city for several 
 weeks, and it is believed that her unfortunate but 
 guilty father will endeavor to see her. Officers 
 have been sent to New York to intercept him if 
 he attempts to leave the country in the Cunard 
 steamer of Wednesday. The sympathies of the 
 public — ' Confound the sympathies of the pub- 
 
THE STKUGGLES OP A SOLDIEK. 43 
 
 lie ! " exclaimed Larry, as the waiter brought in 
 our breakfast ; and he threw down the paper. 
 
 " Why don't you finish the article ? I am anx- 
 ious to hear the rest of it," I interposed. 
 
 " Read for yourself, Phil. I never wait my 
 breakfast for the sympathies of the public," an- 
 swered Larry, taking a large piece of steak from 
 the dish. 
 
 When my friend began to read this article, I 
 noticed that the elderly gentleman opposite me 
 suddenly turned very pale. I saw that his lips 
 quivered, and his whole frame was convulsed. 
 He struggled to appear indifferent, but his efforts 
 were only partially successful. I observed him 
 with no little interest, and without seeming to 
 watch him, I scrutinized his looks and actions 
 very closely. I was afraid he was the Mr. Luther 
 Fennimore alluded to in the paragraph. If so, he 
 had abundant reason to be gloomy and nervous. 
 I finished the reading of the article ; but the rest 
 of it was only to the effect that the sympathies of 
 the public would be entirely with the beautiful 
 and accomplished daughter of the defaulter. For 
 my own part, I pitied him more than her, though 
 he deserved it less, for he had the burden of 
 
44 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 crime on his soul, which is the heaviest load that a 
 mortal can carry. 
 
 While we were at the table the young lady 
 appeared at the door, and the nervous gentleman 
 hastened to join her. He was so agitated that he 
 could hardly walk. When they had gone, Larry 
 indulged in some enthusiastic remarks about the 
 lady, and declared that he should be sure and be 
 at dinner in order to see her again. I asked the 
 waiter who the gentleman was, but he was unable 
 to give his name. At the office I made the same 
 inquiry, and the clerk pointed to " Park Barnard ?? 
 on the register, and " Miss Goodspeed " under it. 
 Park Barnard was certainly not the name of the 
 defaulter, and the supposition that the lady and 
 gentleman had entered assumed names on the 
 book implied that she was a party to her father's 
 crime, which I was not willing to believe. 
 
 I hastened to the steamer office to engage my 
 passage, and took a berth in an unoccupied state- 
 room well forward, which I promised to pay for in 
 an hour or two. I hoped to have the room to my- 
 self, though it was the last one in which at least 
 one berth had not been taken. I then went to the 
 bankers, and received, the money on my draft. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 45 
 
 Perhaps it would not have been paid if I had not 
 produced a letter from the banker in St. Louis, 
 who gave a full description of me, in order to 
 avoid this difficulty. With the money I bought a 
 letter of credit, for general use in Europe, for four 
 hundred pounds, and had enough left to pay my 
 passage, and purchase twenty sovereigns in gold, 
 for use before I reached London. 
 
 Larry Grimsby went with me to all the places 
 my business required me to visit, and was in- 
 terested in all that was* said and done. He in- 
 quired particularly in regard to the method of 
 obtaining funds in Europe, which I explained as 
 well as I was able in so short a time. When I 
 inquired in regard to the terms for the letter of 
 credit, the clerk handed me two or three blank 
 forms. They were signed by the banking firm, 
 but contained no other writing. I concluded that 
 the members of the firm were absent from the 
 city, and had signed these blanks to enable the 
 clerks to do business in this line during their 
 absence. Larry picked up one of them, and read 
 it with interest, while I examined another. The 
 terms were satisfactory to me, and the letter of 
 credit was filled out; I signed it in the margin, 
 
46 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 and placed it in my pocket-book with other valua- 
 ble papers. I saw the clerk pick up one or more 
 of the blanks as we left the office. After paying 
 for my passage, and purchasing my sovereigns, 
 we made a visit to the steamer in which I was 
 to cross the Atlantic. I saw my room, and was 
 satisfied with it. 
 
 " I wish I was going with you, Phil," said Larry, 
 as we left the ship. 
 
 " I wish you were,'' I replied. 
 
 " See here ; it is dinner time, Phil," added he, 
 as the clock on Trinity struck the hour. 
 
 We hastened to the hotel, and arrived only a 
 little late ; but my friend was sorely disappointed 
 when he found that the pretty young lady was 
 not at the table. Neither she nor her father ap- 
 peared, and we did not see them again at the 
 hotel. After dinner Larry left me to call upon 
 some of his friends. Suspecting that his New 
 York associates were like himself, I declined to 
 go with him. He told me that one of them owed 
 him thirty and another ten dollars, borrowed 
 money, which he hoped to collect ; and I was still 
 less inclined to go with him, if it was to be a 
 dunning expedition. I begged him not to drink 
 
THE STKUGGLES OF A SOLDIEE. 47 
 
 anything, for he might meet the young lady at 
 the hotel in the evening. He only laughed, and 
 made no promises. 
 
 I spent the afternoon in completing the prep- 
 arations for my voyage. Long before dark Larry 
 returned to the hotel. To my surprise he was not 
 tipsy, and I could not detect even the smell of 
 liquor about him. 
 
 " Have you seen the young lady? " he asked. 
 
 " No ; we will ask about her at the office." 
 
 We did so, and learned that the gentleman was 
 quite sick, and that she was attending to his 
 wants. Larry went out again in the evening, but 
 returned before ten o'clock. 
 
 " Not a drop, Phil," said he. " I haven't drank 
 anything to-day." 
 
 " I suppose you don't feel any the worse for it." 
 
 " No ; I can't say that I do ; but it is hard 
 work to meet your friends and not drink with 
 them." 
 
 " Don't do it, Larry, however hard it may be. 
 The idea of a young fellow like you, only nineteen 
 years old, drinking liquor, is absurd. You are 
 almost sure to die a drunkard, if you keep on." 
 
 "0, 1 can take care of myself; but just for a 
 
48 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 joke, I thought I would kuock off for a while ; I 
 always took something before when I had any 
 money ; but as I didn't have any, more than half 
 the time, 1 couldn't always drink, unless some 
 good fellow treated me. But I don't often let a 
 fellow treat me, unless I have the money to re- 
 taliate with." 
 
 " I hope you will keep up the joke for a- year, at 
 least." 
 
 " Perhaps I shall ; I don't know." 
 
 " To-morrow morning I must leave you, as you 
 are aware ; but I hope I shall see you again. Will 
 you write to me, Larry, in care of the bankers ? " I 
 asked, giving him the address. 
 
 " With all my heart, if the circumstances per- 
 mit," laughed he. 
 
 " Tell me where you are ; I will answer your 
 letter." 
 
 My friend treated the matter very lightly, and 
 with much indifference. We slept as well as usual 
 that night, and I was up early in the morning. I 
 routed out my companion, and we took an early 
 breakfast. 
 
 '* I think I will pay my bill, for I shall, not stay 
 here after you are gone," said Larry, when I 
 called for my account. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 49 
 
 " I should think you would get into some good 
 boarding-house, and go to work at once, so that 
 you may always find a dollar in your pocket when 
 you fish for one," I added. 
 
 " Your advice shall be considered." 
 
 I engaged a car-man to take my trunk over to 
 the city, and Larry, with his little valise in his 
 hand, walked down to the ferry with me. I 
 wondered that he should be so absurd as to carry 
 it over and back, when he could just as well leave 
 it at the hotel ; but he insisted upon having his 
 own way. Already there was a crowd on the 
 wharf when we went on board of the ship. Car- 
 riages were arriving and departing, and great 
 piles of baggage were conveyed on board. I had 
 my trunk carried to my room, and went down my- 
 self, to ascertain whether I was to be alone or not. 
 Larry went with me, and placed his valise in the 
 upper berth. No other passenger appeared, and 
 I proposed to go on deck to see the exciting 
 scenes attending the departure of an ocean 
 steamer. 
 
 " Better not leave your valise there, Larry," I 
 suggested. " You may not have time to come down 
 after it, when the order to leave the ship is given." 
 4 
 
50 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " My valise has taken passage for Liverpool," 
 laughed he. 
 
 " Your valise ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I have concluded to go with it, in 
 order to take care of it." 
 
 " You don't mean to say that you are going to 
 Liverpool — do you ? " 
 
 " I do," he replied, producing his ticket. 
 
 I was confounded by this evidence of his inten- 
 tion, and for certain reasons I was not altogether 
 pleased. 
 
THE STEUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 51 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL WALKS ABOUT THE DECK, AND FINDS 
 ANOTHER GRIMSBY. 
 
 WAS startled by the announcement of Larry 
 Grimsby, that he intended to go to Liverpool 
 in the steamer. As he had his ticket, he had 
 evidently paid his fare, and I had no right to 
 interfere, even if I had been disposed to do so. 
 Certainly I had some selfish fears, which annoyed 
 me not a little. I could not exactly understand 
 where he had obtained money enough to pay for 
 his passage ; but I concluded that he had collected 
 the whole or a portion of the forty dollars due him 
 from his former associates in the city. But even 
 if he had added forty dollars to the hundred I 
 had given him, he had plainly expended nearly 
 every dollar in his possession for the purchase of 
 his ticket. 
 
 "When he landed in Europe he would not have 
 
52 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 anything to pay his expenses, and I feared that 
 my exchequer would be required to foot his bills 
 as well as my own. Grateful as I was to him for 
 the valuable service he had rendered me, I could 
 hardly afford to pay his expenses ; and when we 
 were together in a foreign land, I did not see how 
 I could refuse to do so, as long as my money 
 lasted. After all, had he not saved my life beyond 
 the possibility of a doubt? With this view, I 
 thought I could not do too much for him, even if I 
 gave him all the money I had in the Avorld. I was 
 determined, therefore, not to worry about him ; at 
 least not till I understood his plans better. 
 
 We went on deck after securing our seats at 
 the table in the saloon. We walked about, and 
 looked at everybody and everything. I was in- 
 terested in the busy scene around me, and excited 
 by the prospect before me. Larry took every- 
 thing as coolly as though he had crossed the ocean 
 a dozen times. 
 
 " Hallo, Chaplin ! " exclaimed he, as he en- 
 countered a rather disagreeable-looking man near 
 the smoke-stack. 
 
 " Hist, Larry ! Don't mention my name here," 
 replied the person addressed. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 53 
 
 " Why not ? Do you want to cut an old 
 friend ? " 
 
 " By no means ; but don't mention my name, 
 if you please," added Chaplin, with an expressive 
 wink. 
 
 u Certainly not, if you say so ; but I am sorry 
 you are ashamed of your name." 
 
 " It isn't that, Larry. The fact of it is, I'm in 
 the shadow business just now," replied Chaplin, in 
 a low tone. 
 
 " Is that so ? This is my particular friend, Phil 
 Farringford." 
 
 I shook hands with him, but I did not repeat his 
 name, after the expressive warning not to do so. 
 
 " He's in the shadow business," laughed Larry. 
 
 " Pray, what's the shadow business ? " I asked, 
 having never heard the expression before. 
 
 " Don't you know, Phil ? He is a detective. 
 He is on the lookout for some rogue who will try 
 to leave in this steamer. Isn't that so, my chap?" 
 
 " Just so ; big game, too." 
 
 " I suppose you won't mind telling me what 
 it is." 
 
 " No ;. it's a bank cashier ; but don't mention it." 
 
 " Not a word." 
 
54 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Very likely you read about it in the papers," 
 added Chaplin. 
 
 " The one with the highly educated and ac- 
 complished daughter — is that the one ? " 
 
 "The same; he's booked for this steamer; but 
 he won't come on board till the last minute. I'm 
 stationed here, where I can see every one that 
 comes down the wharf. Keep your eyes open, 
 and you may see some fun." 
 
 I did not think there could be any fun in seeing 
 a poor wretch arrested for his crime, especially if 
 the anguish of his innocent daughter was to be a 
 part of the spectacle. But I was interested in the 
 case, and when the defaulter appeared, I half 
 expected to see the tremulous gentleman whom 
 I had met at the breakfast table the day before. 
 After talking with the detective a few moments, 
 we continued our walk. 
 
 " You know that man, Larry ? " I said, wishing 
 to learn more about him. 
 
 " Yes ; he used to be a printer, and I worked 
 with him," replied my friend. " He's in mean 
 business now ; but I think he's up to it." 
 
 " Why mean business ? " 
 
 " Well, it is mean to dog people's steps, and set 
 
THE STEUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 55 
 
 traps to catch them. I wouldn't do it to save my 
 body from starvation," continued Larry, explaining 
 the business more in detail. 
 
 " I suppose he is sure to catch this man, if he 
 attempts to leave in this ship." 
 
 " No doubt of it. There are three or four of 
 them on the wharf and in the vessel." 
 
 " By the way, Larry, I fancy we have seen this 
 defaulter," I added. 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 " In my opinion it is the gentleman who was 
 with the young lady at the Western Hotel." 
 
 " You don't mean it ! " 
 
 u Of course I may be mistaken, but I certainly 
 think so ; " and I explained the grounds of my 
 belief. 
 
 " If I thought he was the father of that stun- 
 ning pretty girl, I'd help him off, if I could." 
 
 " That would not be right," I replied, shaking 
 my head. 
 
 " Why not ? These banks are sponging shops ; 
 they rob the people of their money, and this 
 cashier only paid them off in their own coin." 
 
 " Wrong, all wrong. The banks are perfectly 
 proper institutions, and the cashier had no right 
 
56 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 to take what did not belong to him. Your argu- 
 ment is utterly ridiculous." 
 
 " Perhaps it is ; I'm no philosopher," laughed 
 he. " I'm going below to get a handkerchief. I'll 
 be with you again in a moment." 
 
 I saw him descend the steps, and I walked 
 forward, deeply interested in the exciting scene 
 around me. I passed the " shadow," who still had 
 his eyes fixed on the wharf, where carriages were 
 bringing passengers for the steamer. I continued 
 my walk to the bow, where, as I was turning to 
 retrace my steps, I encountered Larry, as I 
 supposed. 
 
 " I thought you went below," I remarked, halt- 
 ing in front of the person addressed. " Did you 
 see Mr. Fennimore and his daughter ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon," replied he. 
 
 A second glance at him assured me I had made 
 a blunder ; but certainly the person bore a marvel- 
 lous resemblance to my friend. If I had observed 
 his dress before I spoke to him, I might have 
 avoided the blunder. 
 
 " Excuse me ; I thought it was Mr. Grimsby," I 
 apologized. 
 
 " Indeed, sir, that is my name," added the 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 57 
 
 young man, evidently much perplexed at my 
 conduct. 
 
 " But not the Mr. Grimsby with whom I am 
 acquainted, though you look very much like him." 
 
 The voice and manner of the speaker were 
 quite different from Larry's, though, looking at his 
 face only, I was not surprised at my mistake. A 
 close scrutiny of his features and expression, how- 
 ever, revealed some points of difference. His 
 dress and manner were decidedly English. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," added the stranger; "but 
 you mentioned a gentleman with whom I am con- 
 nected ; my uncle, indeed — Mr. Fennimore." 
 
 " I do not even know the person of whom I 
 spoke ; but as you seem to be an Englishman, 
 probably he is not the Mr. Fennimore who is your 
 uncle. I allude to the bank defaulter, for whom 
 the officers are just now in search." 
 
 " A bank defaulter ! " exclaimed he ; and I 
 was afraid, after all, that I had " put my foot 
 into it." 
 
 " I merely read about the matter in the news- 
 paper," I replied. 
 
 " Of course it cannot be my uncle, then, who is 
 coming on board by the post steamer ; but it's a 
 
58 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 bit strange that we have so many people with the 
 same names." 
 
 I conversed a few moments with him on indif- 
 ferent topics, and then resumed my walk. The 
 bells began to ring violently, and an officer ordered 
 all but the passengers to go ashore. The great 
 hawsers were cast off, and the wheels began to 
 turn. I passed the " shadow," and saw he had no 
 intention of leaving the steamer. 
 
 " Do you go to Liverpool with us ? " I asked. 
 
 " No ; a small steamer brings off the mails, and 
 very likely my man will come off in her." 
 
 This was doubtless the boat which the English 
 Grimsby called the " post steamer." Of course, as 
 he was from England, the defaulter could not be 
 his uncle. I paced the deck again, bestowing my 
 last look upon the city of New York. Hundreds 
 of people, on the wharf and on the steamer, were 
 waving their adieus with hats and handkerchiefs, 
 and I tried to be a little sentimental. I wondered 
 why Larry did not come up to witness this interest- 
 ing scene ; but I saw nothing of him. 
 
 " We are off," said some one near me. 
 
 I turned, and found that the remark was ad- 
 dressed to me. As I did so, I recognized the 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. * 59 
 
 English Grimsby with a young lady on his arm. I 
 was not a little startled when I discovered that 
 she was the same one I had seen at the Western 
 Hotel. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said Mr. Grimsby ; " but I 
 desire very much to see the person for whom you 
 mistook me." 
 
 " He is not on deck just at this moment," I re- 
 plied ; " but I will bring him to you as soon as he 
 comes up." 
 
 " Thank you. I'm curious about the matter, 
 especially as you mentioned my uncle's name. I 
 beg your pardon, but I haven't the pleasure of 
 your name." 
 
 "Mr. Farringford. Philip Farringford." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Farringford. You have mine, 
 and now we are even. This is Miss Fennimore, 
 my cousin." 
 
 The young lady bowed rather coldly, as though 
 she did not quite approve the conduct of her 
 cousin in introducing her to a mere chance ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 " This is a beautiful day we have to commence 
 our voyage," I added. 
 
 " Very fine," she answered, somewhat haughtily. 
 
60 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 Finding that my company was not particularly 
 agreeable to her, I touched my hat, bowed, and 
 retired. I wanted to see Larry then, fur the re- 
 quest of Grimsby would afford me an opportunity 
 of introducing him to both. He was not on deck 
 yet, and I was going below to seek him, when the 
 steamer's wheels stopped, and the mail-boat came 
 alongside. I was curious to see what was done, 
 and I anticipated an exciting scene when the 
 defaulter came on board. Though I could not 
 explain it, I was satisfied that the uncle of Grims- 
 by was the person for whom the officers were 
 seeking. The haughty young lady must suffer a 
 degree of anguish she had never known before. I 
 pitied her, but I could not leave the deck while 
 this terrible scene was impending. The mails 
 were brought on board, and then the baggage. I 
 looked eagerly for the gentleman who had been so 
 nervous at the hotel when Larry read the news. 
 He did not appear, and the small steamer was 
 ready to cast off. Chaplin was disconcerted. I 
 saw him in consultation with several others, who, 
 I concluded, were " shadows," like himself. The 
 bells rang, and the officers shouted ; but the 
 detectives were not ready to leave the ship. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 61 
 
 They spoke to the impatient captain, and then 
 went into the saloon. I followed them, curious to 
 know what was to be done. They scrutinized all 
 the passengers in the cabin, and then went below. 
 I saw them looking into all the state-rooms. 
 
 " This is his room," said Chaplin, at the one 
 next to mine, " or at least the one engaged for Mr. 
 Park Barnard." 
 
 There were some trunks in it, but no pas- 
 sengers. I found that my room was locked, and 
 the shadow knocked at the door. 
 
 " Who's there ? " demanded Larry. 
 
 " Open the door, Larry," I replied, taking the 
 matter out of the hands of the officers. 
 
 " Hold on a minute, Phil. I'm mending my 
 trousers." 
 
 Chaplin laughed, and said he knew that voice. 
 
 " Is this your room ? " he asked, turning to me. 
 
 " Yes ; Larry and I have it together," I an- 
 swered. 
 
 " Is there any other person in there ? " 
 
 " There are only two berths ; Larry has one, 
 and I have the other." 
 
 " That's all right," added Chaplin, as he and his 
 companions passed on to the next room. 
 
62 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 I followed them, as did half a dozen others, 
 including the chief steward. The search was a 
 fruitless one. Mr. Fennimore could not be found, 
 and the " shadows " were satisfied that he was not 
 on board. 
 
 " He was afraid to show himself after that 
 article in the newspapers," said Chaplin to one 
 of his fellows. " That newspaper correspondent 
 ought to be hung." 
 
 They went on board of the mail-boat, and when 
 it had cast off, the great wheels of the steamer 
 began to turn again, and we were actually com- 
 mencing the voyage. Miss Fennimore and Grims- 
 by were on the quarter-deck, and I went below 
 again to see Larry, after we had passed the Nar- 
 rows. The door of our room was still fastened, 
 and I knocked. 
 
 " Who is it ? " called Larry. 
 
 " Open the door," I replied. 
 
 "Hold on a little while — will you, Phil?" 
 
 " Can't you let me in now ? " 
 
 " Are you alone ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 I thought the last was rather an odd question, 
 and I did not see the point of it ; but he opened 
 the door, and I stepped in. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 63 
 
 " What in the world are you about, Larry ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 "I have to do my own mending," laughed he; 
 " and I was busy at a job that comes under that 
 head." 
 
 " But why didn't you go on deck, and see the 
 fun ? We have passed through the Narrows, and 
 the view was worth seeing." 
 
 " Confound the view ! I have seen it a hundred 
 times before now." 
 
 " There is a young fellow on board — an Eng- 
 lishman — that looks like you, Larry ; so much so 
 that I spoke to him, thinking it was you. He 
 wants to see you; and there is a certain young 
 lady with him." 
 
 " Precisely so," he replied, exhibiting no sur- 
 prise. " And I was spoken to by a gentleman who 
 thought I was somebody else. He called me 
 Miles. By the way, Phil, have the cops all 
 gone ? " 
 
 "The what?" 
 
 " The shadows — you know." 
 
 " Every one of them. They were disappointed, 
 and declared that the newspaper article you read 
 had defeated their plans." 
 
64 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Perhaps it did." 
 
 " The officers searched the steamer before 
 they left." 
 
 " I know they did," chuckled Larry. 
 
 " How did you know, when you were mending 
 your trousers, locked up in your room ? " 
 
 " I didn't mend them much," he replied, glan- 
 cing at his berth with an expression so significant 
 that I could not help doing the same. 
 
 In the berth, with his head resting upon his 
 hand, was Mr. Luther Fennimore, the bank de- 
 faulter; and I realized what my unprincipled com- 
 panion had been doing. I was startled, as though 
 an apparition had suddenly burst upon my view. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 65 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL LISTENS TO THE DEFAULTER'S STORY, 
 AND BECOMES BETTER ACQUAINTED WITH BLANCHE 
 FENNIMORE. 
 
 THE steamer had discharged her pilot, and was 
 well away from the land, when I discovered 
 Mr. Fennimore in my state-room. Though I 
 believe, most earnestly, that every man should 
 mind his own business, I am satisfied that under 
 the specious pretence of doing so, many people 
 connive at knavery. I could not help asking 
 myself whether any responsibility rested upon mo 
 for the escape of the defaulter. As I had made 
 the discovery of his presence in my room only 
 after the ship was clear of the land, I could not 
 believe that any guilt attached to me. I do not 
 think that bank defaulters are any the less guilty 
 because they have moved in good society ; and 
 certainly, if I had known that Mr. Fennimore was 
 5 
 
66 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OB 
 
 on board, I would have done what I could to bring 
 him to justice for his crime. 
 
 Miles Grimsby had told me that his uncle would 
 come off to the steamer in the boat with the 
 mails, and I was very much surprised to find that 
 he was on board. Just before I went below, I 
 had seen Miles and Miss Fennimore walking on 
 the hurricane deck. I wondered now whether 
 she knew all the time that her father was on 
 board. If she expected him to come off in the 
 mail-boat, she would naturally have been very 
 much alarmed at his non-appearance. I had not 
 noticed any demonstration on her part', and I was 
 driven to the conclusion that she knew he was in 
 the ship. I did not see how the defaulter could 
 have eluded the officers without the assistance of 
 Larry. The daughter did not seem to trouble 
 herself about the safety of her father, and I still 
 regarded her as innocent of all knowledge of his 
 crime. 
 
 Mr. Fennimore lay in the upper berth, which 
 had been appropriated to Larry's use. His head 
 rested upon his hand, and he had evidently been 
 engaged in conversation with my room-mate. His 
 hair was disarranged, and his toilet much dis- 
 
THE STEUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 67 
 
 turbed, and I concluded, from the appearance of 
 the bed-clothing, that he had been concealed 
 beneath it. He was still very nervous, and wore 
 the same anxious expression as when I had first 
 seen him at the table of the hotel. I glanced at 
 him, and then at Larry. My friend chuckled, and 
 evidently thought he had done a clever thing in 
 outwitting the officers, and in throwing dust into 
 my eyes. 
 
 " Come in, Phil," said Larry, after I had re- 
 garded the situation in silence for a moment. 
 
 " This room seems to be pretty well occupied 
 already," I replied. ' 
 
 " Room enough for one more, my dear fellow. 
 Come in, and make yourself at home — as though 
 you belonged here." 
 
 " I had an idea that I did belong here ; but I 
 begin to think I do not," I added. 
 
 " Come in, young man, if you please," said Mr. 
 Fennimore. " I am ready to leave your room 
 now ; but I should like to speak with you a few 
 moments before I go." 
 
 I entered the room, and seated myself on the 
 narrow sofa under the port. Larry shut the door, 
 and bolted it. 
 
68 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OE 
 
 " It seems, young man, that you know my 
 secret," continued the defaulter. 
 
 " I know it now ; I only suspected it before," I 
 answered. 
 
 " We met at the hotel, I think." 
 
 " I saw you and your daughter there. When 
 my friend here read the article in the Herald 
 about the bank defaulter, I saw that you were 
 very nervous, and trembled violently. I con- 
 cluded from this circumstance, and the description 
 of your daughter, that you were the person." 
 
 " It would be useless, even if it were necessary, 
 for me to attempt to conceal the fact that I am the 
 person — Mr. Fennimore, the bank defaulter," he 
 replied, with a shudder, as if the acknowledgment 
 of his crime wrung his very soul. 
 
 " You entered your name at the hotel as Park 
 Barnard," I added. 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Does your daughter know that you are on 
 board ? " I inquired. 
 
 " She does ; she came with me. I knew from 
 the article which was in the paper that I should 
 be closely watched, and we Came on board before 
 six o'clock this morning. I bribed porters and 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 69 
 
 servants; I told them I was sick, — as, indeed, I 
 am, — and had just reached the city. A steward 
 showed me my room, which is the next to this. I 
 explained that I did not wish to be disturbed, and 
 asked him not to tell any one that I was on board. 
 No one came near me, and I believed that I was 
 safe till this young man, whom I took to be my 
 nephew when I spoke to him, assured me of my 
 mistake, and kindly aided me. He concealed me 
 in his bed, and covered me with bags and valises, 
 in such a way that he declared I was entirely 
 safe." 
 
 " But the officers didn't even look in, Phil, 
 thanks to your assistance," chuckled Larry. 
 
 " They would have come in, if I had suspected 
 that anything was wrong," I replied. 
 
 " Come, come ! Don't be ugly, after you have 
 done a good thing for a fellow." 
 
 " I see that I have not your sympathies," added 
 the anxious occupant of the upper berth. 
 
 " Personally I have no ill will against you ; but 
 I would not willingly aid any man in concealing 
 a crime, like robbing a bank. Does your nephew 
 know that you are here ? " 
 
 " Probably Blanche has told him by this time." 
 
70 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Blanche ? " 
 
 " My daughter. I told Miles yesterday that" 
 Blanche would come on board with a friend, and 
 I should join her by the mail-boat." 
 
 " Does Miles or your daughter know that you 
 are a defaulter ? " I asked. 
 
 "Certainly not; whatever becomes of me, I 
 hope they will never know it," added Mr. Fenni- 
 more, with a convulsive start. 
 
 " Was the statement in the paper true, that } 7 ou 
 had taken a hundred thousand dollars from the 
 bank?" I asked. 
 
 " It was. Twenty-five years ago I was a mer- 
 chant, and a successful one. At the age of 
 twenty-three I was admitted as the junior partner 
 of a large house in New York. I went to Europe 
 frequently, and in England married Sara Groye- 
 land, the daughter of Sir Hale Groveland, Knight. 
 Miles Grimsby, the father of the young man on 
 board, who resembles our friend here so strongly, 
 and the son of Sir Philip Grimsby, Baronet, 
 married another daughter of Sir Hale. I was 
 fortunate, but I was extravagant. I intended that 
 my wife should live in a style equal to that of her 
 titled relatives in England ; and she did. One of 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 71 
 
 the senior partners of our firm died, the other 
 retired, and the business came into my hands. 
 But it had lost its controlling minds, though I 
 believed myself fully competent to manage it, 
 even better than my late seniors. I was mistaken, 
 and in a couple of years I made a disastrous 
 failure. I tried again, with no better success. I 
 was poor — very poor. I had nothing, and no 
 one would give me credit. My wife never re- 
 proached me, but my reverses preyed upon her 
 spirits, and she died, leaving me an only daughter. 
 Perhaps affliction chastened me for a time. With 
 the aid of powerful friends, I obtained the situa- 
 tion of cashier of the Lowerville Bank. 
 
 " I had no vices, and I was respected in the 
 community. I kept house for my daughter's sake, 
 and gave her a very expensive education. As 
 she grew older, I had parties for her benefit ; and 
 spoiled by the luxury and extravagance of my 
 earlier years, I exceeded my income, and ran in 
 debt. To avoid trouble outside, I used the funds 
 of the bank, intending to reduce my expenses, and 
 return the sums I had appropriated. Instead of 
 being able to diminish my expenditures, they 
 continued to increase, until I found that I owed 
 
72 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 the bank nearly fifty thousand dollars. I was ap- 
 palled and terrified by the extent of my defalca- 
 tion. I could not hope to make it good. The 
 officers of the bank had unlimited confidence in 
 me, and I had the villain's art to conceal the 
 frauds. But I worried day and night about my 
 situation. Sleep was almost a stranger to my 
 eyelids, and my health failed. I felt that I must 
 soon die, and I trembled when I thought that a 
 week's illness and absence from the bank might 
 expose its affairs and my crime to the world. I 
 could not endure the idea of leaving my daughter 
 only a legacy of poverty and crime, and I deter- 
 mined, before it was too late, to flee to another 
 country. 
 
 " Blanche, like a true and loving daughter, was 
 sadly troubled about my failing health, and I 
 spoke to her of going to Europe for its restoration. 
 My sister and her son Miles had spent the winter 
 in Virginia, for her health, and a month ago came 
 New York, to visit friends there. Blanche was 
 also invited, and deeming this a good opportunity 
 to carry out. my plan, I told her to accept the 
 invitation, and that we would go to England with 
 the Grimsbys in May. She went to the city, and did 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 73 
 
 not again return to Lowerville. I took fifty thou- 
 sand dollars of the funds of the bank, and then 
 closed its doors for the last time, on the day 
 before I saw you at the hotel. Before dark I was 
 in New York, and took Blanche from the house of 
 her friends, on the plea that the hotel was nearer 
 the steamer. Before it was known to the public 
 at large, I had changed my funds into gold and 
 Bank of England notes, for I dared not trust them 
 in a bill of exchange. The money is in this small 
 valise," said he, raising the portmanteau in the 
 berth. " The article you read frightened me 
 terribly ; and I am so ill now that I can hardly 
 stand up." 
 
 " Then none of your friends with you know 
 what you have done ? " I asked. 
 
 " No ; nor suspect it. I hope to reach some 
 retired place in Italy or Germany, where I may 
 live in peace and penitence," said he, gloomily. 
 
 " Penitence ! " I exclaimed. " I should say there 
 could be no such thing till you had restored your 
 ill-gotten wealth." 
 
 " I cannot starve." 
 
 " Better starve than be dishonest." 
 
 " But my daughter ? " 
 
74 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " I am sure, if she knew the whole truth, she 
 would not permit you to retain a penny of the 
 stolen money." 
 
 " You are right, Mr. Farringford," replied the 
 defaulter, with a groan of real anguish. 
 
 " Don't be too stiff, Phil," interposed Larry. 
 " Blanche shall never know anything about this 
 matter." 
 
 " Mr. Farringford is right ; he is an honest 
 young man ; and if he knew how much I have 
 suffered, he would pity me." 
 
 " I do pity you now ; but I should respect you 
 more, if you gave up the stolen money." 
 
 " I have not the courage to do that ; but I 
 feel quite ill, and I wish to go to my own room 
 now." 
 
 Larry and I assisted him to his state-room, and 
 saw him made as comfortable as possible. 
 
 " You will not betray me to my daughter, Mr. 
 Farringford — will you ? " pleaded he. 
 
 " I don't know what to do. I should feel as 
 though I had a guilty knowledge of your crime, if 
 I assisted in concealing it. But I shall not make 
 your daughter unhappy, if I can avoid it. We will 
 drop the matter now, if you please." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 75 
 
 " Will one of you ask Blanche to come to me ? 
 I feel very ill indeed, and I wonder she does not 
 come down." 
 
 " I will go, and Larry may stay with you till 
 she comes/' I replied, leaving the room. 
 
 I went to the hurricane deck. The steamer 
 had some time before begun to roll in the long 
 swells of the ocean, though the weather was mild 
 and pleasant. I found Blanche Fennimore ex- 
 tended upon a seat, looking very pale. She was 
 seasick, and this fully explained her continued 
 absence from her father. Mrs. Grimsby, her aunt, 
 lay near her in the same situation, and Miles was 
 taking care of both of them. 
 
 " Both ill," said Miles, as I paused near the 
 sufferers. 
 
 " So I perceive." 
 
 " Have you seen my uncle, or don't you know 
 him?" 
 
 " He is in his room, quite ill." 
 
 " He is very feeble ; he told me he should come 
 off in the post steamer ; but my cousin says they 
 came on board early in the morning, because he 
 was so ill." 
 
 " He wished me to find his daughter." 
 
76 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Do you speak of my father?" said Miss Fen- 
 nimore, raising her head a little. 
 
 " Yes; he is quite sick, and desires to see you. 
 I have just assisted him to his berth. I will tell 
 him you are sick," I replied. 
 
 " No ; I will go to him. Poor father ! he is very 
 feeble, and his -is not seasickness." 
 
 She rose from her reclining posture on the seat, 
 and a roll of the ship would have thrown her 
 down, if Miles had not caught her arm. 
 
 " I will take you down," said he. 
 
 " Don't leave me, Miles," groaned Mrs. Grimsby. 
 
 " My mother is very bad ; perhaps Mr. Farring- 
 ford will assist you, Blanche." 
 
 " Certainly," I replied, promptly offering my 
 arm, which she took. 
 
 Being an old sailor, I was entirely at home on 
 the uneasy deck, and safely conducted my fair 
 charge down to the main deck. 
 
 " Do you feel any worse for moving? " I asked. 
 
 " Yes ; I can hardly stand ; let me sit down for 
 a moment." 
 
 I conducted her to a sofa, and then went to 
 the cabin for a lemon, which I offered to her. 
 She gasped her thanks, and following my direc- 
 
THE STEUGGLES OP A SOLDIEK. 77 
 
 tion, swallowed a considerable portion of the 
 lemon juice. In a few moments she declared 
 that she felt a little better, and was ready to go 
 below. 
 
 " Is my father worse ? " she asked. 
 
 " I fear he is ; and I am afraid it is not sea-, 
 sickness," I replied. 
 
 " No ; he has been in failing health for a long 
 time. I hope this journey will help him." 
 
 " We have done what we could for him, and my 
 friend is taking care of him now." 
 
 " You are very kind, and I thank you great- 
 ly. Your friend is very good." 
 
 " He is a noble fellow. Only three clays ago he 
 saved my life at the peril of his own,. though I had 
 never seen him before. Pie is always trying to 
 help some one." 
 
 We reached the state-room of Mr. Fennimore, 
 where Larry was still at work over his patient. 
 He had placed the trunks under the lower 
 berth, and put everything in order in the little 
 apartment. I introduced him to Miss Fennimore, 
 as we entered. He received her with extravagant 
 deference, and placed a stool for her use at the 
 side of her father's berth. 
 
78 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " I am glad you have come, Blanche," moaned 
 her father. 
 
 " You are very sick, father ! " exclaimed she, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " I shall soon be better. I missed you very 
 much," he added. 
 
 " I found her quite ill with seasickness," I 
 interposed. 
 
 " Poor child ! " said he. " I hoped she would 
 not be sick ; but she was never at sea before." 
 
 " I am better now, father," replied she, trying 
 to be cheerful; but. I saw that it was very up- 
 hill work. 
 
 " I have had a kind friend and nurse in Mr. 
 Grimsby," added the sick man. 
 
 '■ I am very grateful to him. How much he 
 looks like Miles ! I am not surprised at the 
 mistake you made, Mr. Farringford." 
 
 " I made the same mistake," continued Mr. 
 Fennimore, very feebly. 
 
 He seemed to me to be in a dangerous con- 
 dition, and I advised the calling of the doctor; 
 but the invalid would not consent to it, and 
 Larry and I left him to the tender ministrations 
 of his daughter, asking her to knock on the 
 
THE STEUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 79 
 
 partition which separated our room from Mr. Fen- 
 nimore's, if she needed any assistance. We did 
 not dare to say anything about the remarkable 
 events of the day, lest the innocent daughter 
 should overhear it. We busied ourselves for a 
 time in putting the room in order ; but in less. 
 than half an hour, we heard tne knock on the 
 partition. 
 
80 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL HAS A MELANCHOLY PASSAGE ACROSS 
 THE ATLANTIC. 
 
 LARRY and I returned to the state-room of 
 Mr. Fennimore. Blaache was still very- 
 pale, but her anxiety about her father seemed to 
 have overcome her own tendency to seasickness. 
 Possibly the lemon which she still used had some 
 effect. She said nothing about herself; all her 
 thought was for her father, who was suffering 
 severe pain, probably increased by the uneasy 
 motion of the ship. Mr. Fennimore had.consented 
 that the surgeon should be called, and I went for 
 him. He made a careful examination of the 
 patient, and prescribed medicines for him. He 
 looked very serious, but he expressed no decided 
 opinion in regard to the result. 
 
 Though I had had very little experience in 
 sickness, I believed that the defaulter had worn 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A 'SOLDIER. 81 
 
 himself out with the anxiety which his crime 
 produced. He was very feeble when I first saw 
 him, and in a state of tremulous anxiety. I had 
 no doubt that often, when he should have been in 
 his bed at home, he had gone to the bank, goaded 
 thither by a fear of discovery. He had evidently 
 sapped out the fountains of vitality in his system, 
 and I felt that crime was the cruelest taskmaster 
 in the world. His safety for a time seemed to be 
 assured as soon as the steamer was in blue water. 
 The excitement which had strained his nerves to 
 their utmost tension was partially removed, pnd 
 there seemed to be nothing now to sustain him. 
 As soon as the pressure was abated he sank under 
 the change. 
 
 1 went out when the doctor did, and asked him 
 a question in regard to the patient. After I had 
 told him that the sick man was not my relative, he 
 spoke with more freedom. He declared that Mr. 
 Fennimore was a. very sick man ; one who had 
 probably exhausted all his vitality in attending 
 too closely to his business ; there was nothing left 
 of him. He declined to express an opinion in 
 regard to the result of the sickness, but said 
 he considered the invalid in a very dangerous 
 6 
 
82 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 condition, and that the ship was the worst place 
 in the world for him. 
 
 I cannot follow the case into its details. Mr. 
 Fennimore grew worse every day, and even every 
 hour. Poor Blanche was almost helpless, for the 
 sea was rough, and she was able to do very little. 
 Larry was with the sick man day and night, 
 nursing him as tenderly and carefully as though 
 the sufferer had been his own father. Mrs. 
 Grimsby was still down with seasickness, and 
 unable to leave her berth. I did all that Larry 
 would permit me to do, which was hardly three or 
 four hours' service at night while he slept. I re- 
 garded him as a wonderful fellow, for while he 
 appeared to have no high moral or religious 
 principle, he was willing to wear himself out in 
 the service of others. He kept Blanche from her 
 father's room as much as possible, and two or 
 three times every day I walked with her on deck. 
 She talked of nothing but her«father, and I could 
 say very little to comfort her, for I knew that 
 the doctor now regarded the case as almost hope- 
 less. I told Larry to walk with Miss Fennimore ; 
 but, singular being that he was, he would never 
 do it, though he made no secret to me of his 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 83 
 
 admiration, and even his love, for the young iady. 
 He kept his post at the sick bed of her father. 
 
 After one of these walks with Blanche, on the 
 sixth day from New York, I returned with her to 
 Mr. Fennimore's room. Larry followed me into 
 our own apartment, leaving the daughter to take 
 care of the sufferer. He looked very serious and 
 strange to me, and I was sure that he had some- 
 thing to say, before he opened his mouth. 
 
 " Phil," said he, looking into my face, but 
 quickly lowering his gaze to the floor. 
 
 "Well, Larry?" 
 
 He looked at me, then through the port, and on 
 the floor. 
 
 " What were you going to say ? " I asked. 
 
 " Did you ever pray, Phil ? " he added, a's if 
 speaking with a desperate effort. 
 
 " Certainly. I do so every day ; and I hope 
 you do." 
 
 " I never did such a thing in all my life. I 
 always looked upon it as buncombe and humbug ; 
 but I am beginning to change my mind. I never 
 saw a man suffer so much in his mind as Mr. Fen- 
 nimore does. It is really horrible. You were 
 right about robbing banks, and such things. It 
 
84 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OK 
 
 don't pay. I would rather live on half rations for 
 forty years, than endure what Fennimore suffers 
 in ten minutes. He asked me to pray with him, 
 while you were walking with Blanche. He could 
 hardly speak, but he was in earnest. I told 
 him I couldn't do it; had never done such a 
 thing in my life ; but that I would speak to you 
 about it." 
 
 " Isn't there a clergyman on board, among the 
 passengers ? " 
 
 " That's what I suggested to him ; but he does 
 not wish to see any strangers. Can't you pray 
 with him, Phil? It will do him a power of good, 
 I think." 
 
 " I will, if he desires it," I answered, taking my 
 Bible from the shelf. 
 
 " Between you and me, Phil, you will be too 
 late if you don't do it soon," whispered Larry, 
 very seriously. " I don't believe he will hold out 
 another day." 
 
 " I will go to him at once," I replied, and left 
 the room. 
 
 I had hardly entered his apartment before Mr. 
 Fennimore, in a scarcely audible voice, introduced 
 the subject upon which Larry had spoken to me. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 85 
 
 I saw that he was suffering terribly in view of the 
 near approach of death. 
 
 Blanche was weeping, and I was confident that 
 he had told her he had not long to live. I had 
 never before seen greater human agony than 
 was depicted on his wan face, and I have not 
 since ; and the mental anguish was vastly greater 
 than the physical. Larry soon followed me, and 
 then, with difficulty, Mr. Fennimore asked his 
 daughter to leave him for a few moments. Under 
 ordinary circumstances, this would have been a 
 strange request ; but I understood the sufferer's 
 motives, and I seconded his desire, though I do 
 not believe, if the whole truth in regard to her 
 father's crime had been revealed to her at that 
 moment, it would have checked the current of her 
 filial love. I would not have impaired her con- 
 fidence in him for all the world. Larry gently led 
 her from the state-room. 
 
 " Pray for me, Mr. Farringford,'' gasped the 
 invalid, with a violent effort. 
 
 "Shall I read you a few verses from the New 
 Testament first ? " I asked. 
 
 " Anything that will tell me whether God can 
 forgive one who has sinned as I have sinned," 
 groaned he. 
 
86 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 I was familiar enough with the sacred writings 
 to find the passages most appropriate to his con- 
 dition. Then I talked to him for a few minutes. 
 I repeated what I had read, that Christ on the 
 cross had assured the repentant malefactor of his 
 pardon. I urged upon him the necessity of 
 making all the restitution in his power for the 
 crime he had committed. 
 
 " I will ! I will ! " exclaimed he, with all the 
 vehemence his feebleness would permit. " Take 
 that valise, Mr. Farringford, and return the money 
 to the bank. I can do no more than this, and my 
 daughter may suffer from want because I do this. 
 
 God, forgive me for Christ's sake ! " groaned he, 
 as the scene of his guilt weighed down his soul, 
 now ready to wing its flight from the mortal body. 
 Deeply moved by what I saw and heard, I knelt 
 down before his berth, and prayed for him with all 
 the earnestness which my pitying heart demanded 
 of me. Nothing more sincere had ever passed my 
 lips, and as I proceeded, the penitent defaulter 
 uttered the most devout invocations for pardon. 
 
 1 finished, and then repeated to him some of the 
 hymns I had learned, which illustrate the mercy 
 and forgiveness of God to the truly penitent. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 87 
 
 They comforted him even more than the prayer. 
 But he was exhausted, and could no longer utter a 
 word ; yet his face looked more serene and placid. 
 I asked him if he felt more at peace, and he nodded 
 his head. Blanche and Larry returned, but I con- 
 tinued to repeat the hymns to him. I wished I 
 could sing, but I could not. I had heard a party 
 of ladies and gentlemen sing " Nearer, my God, to 
 thee," on Sunday, and I left the cabin to find 
 them. I asked them to sing this hymn near the 
 bedside of the dying man, and they promptly con- 
 sented. I placed them in the gangway near the 
 door, and then told Mr. Fennimore what I had 
 done. He smiled then — what I had never seen 
 him do before. The ladies and gentlemen sang 
 the beautiful hymn in tender and subdued tones. 
 The dying man listened as though it were the 
 music of a choir of angels hovering over his 
 couch. Repeatedly he smiled as he pressed the 
 hand of Blanche, and I realized that he was at 
 peace. 
 
 The doctor frequently came to the state-room. 
 From the beginning he had done everything it 
 was possible for a good physician to do. Among 
 the passengers was an English medical gentleman 
 
88 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OE 
 
 of considerable celebrity, who was called in for 
 consultation ; so we felt that every possible thing 
 had been done for the patient. Mr. Fennimore 
 was calm and peaceful now, and we left him alone 
 with Blanche for a time. Late in the evening he 
 wished to see me again. More by signs than by 
 words 'he made me understand that I was to open 
 the valise and take therefrom his ill-gotten wealth. 
 I did so. 
 
 " Send the money to the bank," said he, in a 
 hardly audible whisper. 
 
 I promised to do what he desired, and I realized 
 that this act was a great comfort and consolation 
 to him. 
 
 " Did Blanche know you had this money ? " I 
 inquired. 
 
 "No; no one knew it. Send it back — I shall 
 die in peace." 
 
 With a heavy sense, of responsibility resting 
 upon me, I placed the large sum in my trunk. I 
 did not deem it advisable even to mention the 
 matter to Larry. Contrary to all our expectations, 
 Mr. Fennimore lived two days longer ; and I think 
 his life was prolonged by the peace he had found 
 in penitence and pardon. Several times a day I 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 89 
 
 read the Scriptures to him, and prayed with him. 
 The singers sang several hymns near his room, to 
 which he listened in enraptured silence. Blanche 
 was more reconciled when her father became so 
 gentle and peaceful. She was tolerably calm in 
 his presence, but she wept incessantly Avhen away 
 from him. The passengers were full of sympathy, 
 and the poor girl had no lack of comforters 
 among those of her own sex who had passed 
 through a similar experience. 
 
 On the ninth day from New York, the green 
 shores of Ireland were in sight ; but Mr. Fen- 
 nimore was rapidly sinking. After dinner, the 
 party of singers had just finished the last line 
 of " I would not live alway," when Larry whis- 
 pered that a sudden change had come over the 
 sufferer. I went to his berth. His face was 
 calm and placid as the sleep of an infant. He had 
 passed away. The last sweet strains of earthly 
 music which soothed his mortal sense had been 
 mingled with those of angelic choirs, as this 
 mortal put on immortality. In spite of his great 
 crime, I could not but believe that all was well 
 with him, for he had thrown himself upon the 
 mercy of God in Christ, and done all he could to 
 
90 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 atone for his errors. I closed his eyes, and 
 Blanche sank upon the sofa in a paroxysm of 
 grief. 
 
 After a time, her aunt led her away, and the 
 chief steward performed the necessary offices 
 upon the remains. It was midnight when we 
 arrived at Queenstown. An order was sent for- 
 ward, by a passenger, to Liverpool, for an under- 
 taker to make the arrangements for conveying the 
 remains to Bloomridge, in Staffordshire, where the 
 Grimsbys resided. 
 
 " Phil, I shall never forget this voyage," said 
 Larry, the next day, as the ship was going up the 
 Channel. 
 
 " Neither shall I ever forget it," 1 replied. " I 
 expected to have a good time on the passage, but 
 it has been one of the saddest seasons of my life." 
 
 " That's so ; and I have been hard at work most 
 of the time ; but I must say I am better satisfied 
 with myself than I ever was before." 
 
 " You have behaved nobly, Larry." 
 
 " Never mind that. I have seen more of life 
 than I ever dreamed of before. I have been a 
 reckless fellow. I never believed much in reli- 
 gion, goodness, and such kind of things ; but after 
 
THE STEUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 91 
 
 following Mr. Fennimore to the end, I have altered 
 my mind/' said he, very seriously. " That man 
 was miserable beyond anything I ever saw or 
 imagined ; and I wouldn't rob a bank now, even 
 if I had as good a chance as he had, though I 
 don't know that I have as much conscience as he 
 had." 
 
 " I'm glad to see you taking a reasonable view 
 of these things." 
 
 " Reasonable ! See here, Phil," he added, taking 
 a paper from his pocket and unfolding it. 
 
 " What's that ? " I asked, curiously. 
 
 " Look at it; " and he handed the paper to me. 
 
 It was one of the blank forms of a letter of 
 credit, such as I had, with the signature of the 
 banking firm upon it. 
 
 " What of it? " I inquired. 
 
 " Don't you remember that paper ? " 
 
 " I don't particularly remember this one." 
 
 " When you obtained your letter of credit, you 
 know the clerk handed out two or three of these 
 things." 
 
 " 0, yes ; I remember now ; but where did you 
 get this ? " 
 
 '• While the clerk was filling out your letter, 
 
92 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 I folded up one of the blanks and put it in my 
 pocket/'" he replied, looking much ashamed of 
 himself. 
 
 " What for? What use can this empty blank be 
 to you ? " 
 
 " None now," he answered, taking the paper 
 from my hand, tearing it into small pieces with 
 considerable vigor, and then throwing them over- 
 board. " That's all." 
 
 " I really don't understand you, Larry," I added, 
 puzzled by his conduct. 
 
 " Don't you ? Then perhaps you give me credit 
 for being a better fellow than I am. I shall go 
 to work in Liverpool, if I can find a job in a 
 printing office ; if not, I shall ship for home as a 
 common sailor." 
 
 u I have thought your plans were rather loosely 
 laid, but I don't comprehend you yet." 
 
 " You are a little thick, Phil, in some things. 
 You have saved me from — Well, I don't know 
 what you have saved me from." 
 
 " I am not aware that I have saved you from 
 anything." 
 
 " Yes, you have ; you haven't preached much at 
 me ; if you had, it would have done me no good. 
 But you have hit me all the harder." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 93 
 
 " Tell me what you mean." 
 
 " I intended to fill out that blank, draw the 
 money on it, and have a good time in Europe for 
 a year or two," he replied, desperately, as if the 
 confession was too shameful to be made. 
 
 I understood him then. 
 
94 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND HIS FRIEND VISIT GRIMSBY HALL, 
 AND ARE PRESENT AT A MELANCHOLY OCCASION. 
 
 /|~Y motto from the beginning had been, 
 JL " Upward and Onward." Pei'haps I ought 
 not to say it, but I had distinctly set before 
 myself the purpose of becoming a good and true 
 man, whatever else I was. I made mistakes, 
 many and grievous ones, but I tried to do my 
 duty. I had always been afraid of evil com- 
 panions, and, as I have before remarked, I did not 
 like the character of Larry Grimsby. He had no 
 high aims, no moral principle, to guide and control 
 his life. But, whatever he had said, I did not 
 believe him capable of the crime he confessed to 
 have meditated. 
 
 The blank letter of credit was signed by the 
 banking firm. But filling it out and " uttering " 
 it were no less a crime than if he had added the 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 95 
 
 further act of forging the signature of the bankers. 
 I understood his plan now. He had expended all 
 his money in the purchase of his steamer ticket, 
 and he intended to replenish his exchequer to a 
 liberal extent by drawing on this letter. Prob- 
 ably he considered that being with me, who had a 
 genuine credit, Avould remove all doubts in regard 
 to his own ; indeed, he acknowledged as much to 
 me. But he had destroyed the blank, and an- 
 nounced his intention of going to work, or return- 
 ing to New York. 
 
 " I did not think you would do such a thing," I 
 said, sadly. 
 
 " I knew I would, if I got a good chance. But 
 that's all gone by now. After witnessing the 
 sufferings of poor Mr. Fennimore, I would starve 
 rather than do such a thing. I don't like cant, 
 Phil, but my eyes have been opened. I would 
 give all my old boots, if I had any, to be half as 
 good as you are, my boy." 
 
 " I hope you will try to be better than I am." 
 
 " That's humbug, Phil. You know you are 
 a saint." 
 
 " I know that I am a sinner, but I am trying to 
 do right ; that is all I Can say for myself." 
 
96 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OE 
 
 " Never mind, Phil : I don't believe you are a 
 hypocrite. If you had. been, you couldn't have 
 done so much for poor Mr. Fennimore. Why, you 
 lifted him right up, and made a new man of him. 
 I believe there is something in religion now. I 
 never thought there was before. I'm going to 
 try to be a better fellow." 
 
 " If you try, I know you will succeed. You 
 have a good heart, with noble and generous emo- 
 tions. You are entirely unselfish, and are willing 
 to wear yourself out in the service of others." 
 
 " Thank you, Phil. I always mean to stand 
 by a fellow as long as there is anything left 
 of him." 
 
 " All you need is a high moral and religious 
 principle." 
 
 " I intend to look into that matter," said he, 
 thoughtfully. "But I suppose we must part as 
 soon as we land." 
 
 " I hope not," I replied. 
 
 " Of course we must ; I haven't ten shillings in 
 the world." 
 
 " 0, I shall be glad to help you out," I added, 
 warmly. 
 
 " No, Phil ; you have done enough for me ; but 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 97 
 
 the biggest thing you did was to save me from 
 filling out that blank." ♦ 
 
 " But I have not done half so much for you as 
 you have for me." 
 
 " There, there ; no more of that. I don't want 
 any of your gratitude." 
 
 " Yet that was precisely in your own strain. 
 Here are ten sovereigns, Larry ; and I won't say 
 another word about what you have done for me, 
 unless you introduce the subject yourself." 
 
 " I won't take them," said he, doubtfully, but 
 evidently tempted to do so. 
 
 " You must ! Would you compel me to leave a 
 good fellow alone in a foreign land without any 
 money in his pocket, when I have plenty ? " 
 
 " As a loan, Phil, I will take this money, for I 
 feel that I need it ; but I solemnly assure you 
 that, if I ever pay any debt before I pay the debt 
 of nature, this shall be the first one," replied 
 Larry, as he slipped the gold into his pocket. 
 
 " Don't distress yourself about it, my dear fellow." 
 
 Certainly there was enough of good in Larry 
 Grimsby to redeem him from the evil, which he" 
 hardly attempted to conceal, but rather made an 
 affectation of displaying. 
 7 
 
98 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " I don't think I shall distress myself about any- 
 thing ; but I am more likely to obtain a job in 
 London than in Liverpool. I believe your great 
 philosopher, Franklin, was tolerably successful 
 there in my line." 
 
 We hardly saw Blanche Fennimore during the 
 day, for she remained with her aunt in the state- 
 room. It was after midnight when the steamer 
 anchored in the Mersey, and few of the passengers 
 went ashore in the boat which came off for the 
 mails and those who desired to land at once. At 
 breakfast Blanche came to the table, the very 
 picture of misery. Larry and I waited in the 
 saloon till she was ready to leave. 
 
 " I suppose we must part here, Miss Fennimore," 
 I began, as we met her at the door. 
 
 " Part ? " she replied. 
 
 n "We go direct to London." 
 
 " You will not leave me now. You must go to 
 Bloomridge with us," she a'dded, in pleading tones. 
 " You were so kind to my poor father and to me, 
 that I cannot endure the thought of parting with 
 you. I hope you will attend my father's funeral. 
 I am sure he would have desired it." 
 
 " We did not know what arrangements had 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 99 
 
 been made, and we have not considered the sub- 
 ject," I answered. 
 
 " Let me speak with my aunt about the matter," 
 said she. 
 
 She followed her aunt below, and presently 
 Miles Grimsby came to us with an invitation to 
 spend the time till after the funeral at Bloomridge. 
 Though I was in a hurry to reach Italy, I felt 
 obliged to accept the invitation, out of regard to 
 the feelings of poor Blanche. 
 
 The undertaker had come on board early in the 
 morning, and the remains of Mr. Fennimore, now 
 placed in a coffin, were conveyed to the tug- 
 steamer. We went on board with Blanche and the 
 Grimsbys, and repaired directly to the Lime Street 
 station ; but we were obliged to wait an hour for 
 the train. This afforded me time to attend to the 
 last wishes of the deceased ; and I had written a 
 letter on board the steamer to the president of the 
 Lowerville Bank, whose address I had been care- 
 ful to obtain of Mr. Fennimore, detailing the 
 events which had occurred on the passage. I 
 begged him, for the sake of Blanche, to let the 
 matter rest without further exposure, since the 
 deceased had made all the reparation in his power. 
 
100 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 Taking a cab, I drove to the bankers upon whom 
 my letter of credit was issued, and purchased a 
 bill for the full amount intrusted to me by Mr. 
 Fennimore. This I sent in my letter, instructing 
 the bankers to forward the duplicates, which they 
 promised to do. I posted the precious document, 
 and felt that I had discharged a sacred duty. 
 
 " Where have you been, Phil ? " asked Larry, 
 when I returned to the station. 
 
 "To the bankers." 
 
 " You robbed yourself when you loaned me the 
 ten pounds." 
 
 " Not at all ; I did not go to draw money ; " and 
 I explained to him what had transpired between 
 Mr. Fennimore and myself in regard to the stolen 
 money. " 
 
 " Send it all back ! " exclaimed he, with no little 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Every penny of it — about fifty thousand 
 dollars." 
 
 "You didn't say anything to me about this." 
 
 " No ; it was a matter between Mr. Fennimore 
 and myself; and I thought it had better- remain so 
 until the business was finished." 
 
 " You were afraid I would steal the money if I 
 knew you had it. I don't blame you ; but — " 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 101 
 
 " I was not afraid you would steal it, and my 
 course saved all argument on the subject. I did 
 not know but you might think it your duty to 
 speak to Blanche or the Grimsbys about the 
 money, and thus complicate the matter." 
 
 " Of course I should not have said anything 
 to them." 
 
 " You might have spoken of the money without 
 mentioning the crime." 
 
 " No, I should not. I might have done it a 
 week ago, but not three days ago. After Mr. 
 Fennimore had ruined himself to obtain this 
 money, his daughter has not a penny to show 
 for it." 
 
 " No ; but her father died in peace, after he had 
 given me the money, and. instructed me to restore 
 it to the rightful owners. That is something to 
 show for giving it up — isn't it ? " 
 
 "I think it is; and you are right, Phil, as you 
 always are ; but I am sorry for poor Blanche, 
 without a red to help herself with." 
 
 " Her English friends are wealthy, and she wil 1 
 never want for anything," I replied. 
 
 It was late in the day when we arrived at 
 Bloomridge, and took carriages for Grimsby Hall, 
 
102 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 a mile from the station. Mrs. Grimsby and Miles 
 were warmly welcomed by the family. Blanche 
 was very kindly, and even tenderly, received, for 
 her bereaved condition excited all the sympathies 
 of her friends. After all these welcomes had been 
 given, and condolences extended, Larry and my- 
 self were introduced. The family consisted of Sir 
 Philip Grimsby, and his son Miles, who dwelt 
 beneath the paternal roof with his wife, his son 
 Miles, and two daughters. 
 
 I had never before seen a live baronet, and I 
 was deeply impressed by his appearance, but 
 more by the fact that he was a baronet. He was 
 rather stiff and haughty in his manners at first, 
 and I regarded him with much deference and 
 humiliation. But Larry did not seem to be awed 
 in the slightest degree, when his turn came to be 
 presented to the old gentleman. 
 
 "Eh!" exclaimed the baronet, stepping back, 
 as my friend advanced, in order to survey his 
 features more closely. " What did you say the 
 name was, Miles ? " he added, turning to . his 
 grandson. 
 
 "Mr. Grimsby," replied Miles, apparently 
 amused at the manner of his grandfather. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 103 
 
 " Grimsby ! Upon my life, he looks like one 
 of us ! " added Sir Philip. " I'm glad to see you, 
 Mr. Grimsby." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," replied Larry, stepping for- 
 ward, and extending his hand — a familiarity in 
 which I had not ventured to indulge. 
 
 The baronet took the offered hand, but he still 
 continued to regard with the closest scrutiny the 
 face of my friend. ' 
 
 "He looks. like you, Miles," added he. "But 
 upon my life, he looks more like your uncle that 
 died. Will you oblige me with your given name, 
 Mr. Grimsby ? " 
 
 " I'm generally called Larry, sir." 
 
 " But that's a nickname." 
 
 " It certainly labors under that imputation." 
 
 " For what is Larry a nickname, sir ? " asked 
 Sir Philip. 
 
 " For Lawrence, sir. I was entered on the 
 steamer's passenger list as Lawrence Grimsby," 
 replied Larry, with easy assurance. 
 
 " Lawrence Grimsby ! " exclaimed the baronet, 
 dropping into a chair, as if overcome by some un- 
 explained emotion. 
 
 But he soon appeared to become conscious that 
 
104 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 he was acting in an unusual manner, and rose 
 from his chair. 
 
 " Gentlemen, you are welcome to Grimsby Hall. 
 We dine at six. Breck, show the gentlemen the 
 rooms prepared for them," he added, turning to a 
 servant. 
 
 Each of our apartments, which were connected, 
 was large enough for a ball-room, and furnished in 
 a heavy, substantial, old-fashioned style. Breck 
 boWed low to us, but he was as solemn as an owl. 
 He suggested all sorts of- wants, some of which 
 we could not understand in our republican sim- 
 plicity, and we declined everything. He told us 
 that the remains of Mr. Fennimore had been 
 placed in the chapel, and that the funeral must 
 take place the next day. Then he was considerate 
 enough to leave us. I opened my trunk, and put 
 on my best suit of black ; but when I found that 
 Larry was unable to make any change in his ward- 
 robe, I resumed my travelling suit. My friend, 
 however, looked very well, but he was certainly 
 in no condition to attend a funeral. We were 
 dressed just in time for dinner. A chaplain said 
 grace at the table, and the affair was very formal 
 to me. Little was said, and everybody seemed to 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 105 
 
 be in sympathy with poor Blanche. More than once 
 I saw the baronet gazing earnestly at Larry, who 
 sat opposite me ; and he, in his turn, looked at 
 Blanche, who was at my side, as much as politeness 
 would justify, perhaps more. 
 
 After dinner, I suggested to Larry that we 
 should walk down to Bloomridge, which, near the 
 station, was densely peopled. The baronet insisted 
 that we should take a " dog cart," and we were 
 forced to comply. The man drove us to the sta- 
 tion, where we found a clothing store. 
 
 " Now, Larry, you must have a full suit of 
 black," said I. 
 
 " I can't afford it," he promptly replied. 
 
 " But here in England you would be considered 
 as utterly wanting in respect for the living and the 
 dead if you should appear at a funeral in that rig." 
 
 " I can't help it." 
 
 " You are just my size ; let me buy a suit, and if 
 you don't want it after the funeral, I will take it 
 off your hands." 
 
 1 carried my point. The tailor had a coat made 
 for another person, whom he was willing to dis- 
 appoint if he could sell an additional garment, 
 which was just a fit for my friend. We could find 
 
106 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 neither pants nor vests to match it, and the tailor 
 agreed to make new ones by ten o'clock the next 
 day. We assented, and I paid half the price of 
 the suit, -which was three pounds, and we returned 
 to the hall after purchasing such other articles as 
 we needed. 
 
 " This is cutting it rather fat for a fellow like 
 me," said Larry. 
 
 " Or me either," I replied. 
 
 " You are not exactly a vagabond, as I am. You 
 have plenty of money." 
 
 " It is only by accident that we are here. We 
 shall be off in a day or two." 
 
 " I don't feel in a hurry to go. In a word, I 
 shall feel very lonely when I can see Blanche no 
 more," said Larry, sadly. 
 
 " Has it come to that ? " 
 
 " I told you I was smitten the first time I saw 
 her. 'Pon my word, I think she is an angel." 
 
 We talked of this matter for half an hour, and 
 were then invited to the drawing-room. Blanche 
 was there for a short time, but it was a very 
 solemn assembly, and we retired early. Punctual- 
 ly at the appointed hour, the black suit came from 
 the tailor's, and I paid the balance of the bill. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 107 
 
 The funeral was to be at twelve, and we dressed 
 for the occasion. Larry looked like another per- 
 son in his sombre suit of black, with kid gloves of 
 the same color. He seemed to have got rid of the 
 rowdy element in his appearance, and looked like 
 a sober and sedate young man. We attended the 
 funeral of Mr. Fennimore, which was solemnized 
 at a neighboring church. Though I was properly 
 impressed by the religious services, the grief of 
 poor Blanche was the moving element of the occa- 
 sion to me. The remains of Mr. Fennimore were 
 placed in a tomb, to be sent to America, there to 
 be finally interred by the side of his wife. Sadly 
 we returned to Grimsby Hall, and Sir Philip made 
 an effort to restore some of the cheerfulness which 
 had usually pervaded his mansion ; but Blanche 
 was hardly less gloomy than before. We spent a 
 quiet evening in the drawing-room ; but at ten 
 o'clock the baronet desired to see Larry and my- 
 self in his library, and we promptly obeyed the 
 summons. 
 
108 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL SHOWS THAT HE HAS A. TALENT FOR 
 KEEPING STILL, AND LARRY BECOMES A HERO. 
 
 THE library of the baronet's mansion was in 
 keeping with the rest of the building, and 
 antique carved book-cases were suitable for ex- 
 hibition in the Hotel de Cluny, in Paris. The 
 family of Sir Philip was older than the book-cases, 
 and the talkative Breck, who did duty in our 
 chambers as valet, so far as we were able to use 
 the services of such a functionary, had told me 
 that it was even more noted for its wealth than for 
 its antiquity. 
 
 When we entered the library the baronet was 
 walking up and down the apartment, apparently 
 studying the figures in the carpet. I had no 
 suspicion whatever of his object in sending for us. 
 His manner had been somewhat strange, and I had 
 often discovered him gazing at the lace of my 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 109 
 
 companion. Even in the church I had observed 
 that he paid more attention to Larry than to the 
 service, which certainly was not proper in a good 
 churchman ; but he was entirely excusable in the 
 light of subsequent events.- Sir Philip did not 
 appear to notice us when we entered. A small 
 fire of soft coal was blazing cheerfully in the 
 grate, and his path was up and down in front of it. 
 We walked up to a position opposite the grate, 
 and stopped where he must pass us on his return 
 from the farther end of the room. 
 
 " The old gentleman has something on his 
 mind," whispered Larry. 
 
 " What can he want with lis ? " I asked. 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " I think he wants to know where yoir obtained 
 his name, especially as you look so much like his 
 grandson," I suggested. 
 
 " If he does I am in the dark on that subject. 
 Here he comes again." 
 
 The baronet halted when he saw us, and fixed 
 an earnest gaze on my companion. 
 
 " Young man," said he, compressing his lips 
 after he had uttered the words, and then indul- 
 ging in a long and trying pause. 
 
110 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " I'm at your service, sir," replied Larry, 
 politely. 
 
 " Young man, if I should die to-night — " And 
 then he paused again, as though he had something 
 awfully impressive to say. 
 
 "I sincerely hope you will not die to-night, Sir 
 Philip," added Larry. " If you do, sir, I am afraid 
 I could not remain to attend the funeral." 
 
 " Yes, you would remain a week to attend my 
 funeral, and not leave even after you had seen me 
 comfortably buried." 
 
 " Perhaps I should, Sir Philip. I really hope 
 you will live many years. You have a fine place 
 here, and I should say that you had every means 
 of enjoying yourself," answered my friend, with 
 easy assurance. " I hope you will live till you 
 are a hundred," 
 
 " Very likely you will change your mind after 
 you know more about yourself and me," added 
 the baronet, evidently pleased with the answers 
 of Larry. 
 
 " I don't think so, Sir Philip. I'm a beggar 
 myself; but I don't envy any man, woman, or 
 child on the face of the footstool. I have as good 
 a time as I can in the world, and I like to see 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. Ill" 
 
 other people e<njoy themselves, even if, they are 
 lords, and baronets, and dukes." 
 
 " That's kind of you, and the lords, dukes, and 
 baronets ought to be obliged to you for your con- 
 sideration," added Sir Philip, chuckling at his own 
 humor, rather than at his guest's. " Young man, 
 if I should die to-night — " And then the baronet 
 was very serious again, making another long 
 pause in this place, apparently for the purpose of 
 composing the muscles of his face. 
 
 " I am serious, Sir Philip, when I say again that 
 I trust you will not die to-night," added Larry, 
 who perhaps thought that the pause was intended 
 for his benefit, and to afford him an opportunity to 
 say something. 
 
 " Young man, if I should die to-night — " 
 
 The baronet paused again, and I observed that 
 he was much agitated, though he labored to sup- 
 press his emotion. I elbowed Larry, and passing 
 behind him, I told him in a whisper to say noth- 
 ing ; and he was silent this time. Sir Philip's lips 
 worked as he struggled to keep clown his emotion, 
 and I thought he had some doubts as to whether 
 or not he should utter what was upon his mind. 
 
 "■ Young man, if I should die to-night, in the 
 
112 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 morning you would be Sir Lawrence Grimsby," 
 continued the baronet, finishing the sentence this 
 time as with a desperate effort. 
 
 As soon as he had uttered the astounding 
 sentence, he turned and marched rapidly towards 
 the farther end of the room. 
 
 " Here's a go ! " said Larry, glancing at me, with 
 a queer smile on his face. " The old gentleman 
 has a weak spot in his head, or else he means to 
 get up a thundering sensation." 
 
 " He is in earnest," I replied. " You saw his 
 emotion." 
 
 " I did ; but I'm afraid the old gentleman is 
 crazy. Of course what he says is all bosh," 
 laughed Larry. 
 
 " Perhaps not ; let us wait and hear the con- 
 clusion of the whole matter." 
 
 My friend certainly took the astounding an- 
 nouncement with the utmost coolness. For my 
 own part, I knew not what to make of it, though 
 of course I could not help thinking of Larry's 
 wonderful resemblance to Miles Grimsb} 7 , and the 
 fact that he bore the family name of the baronet. 
 Sir Philip continued to walk the room, leaving us 
 in a very awkward and embarrassing situation, 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 113 
 
 and we impatiently waited for the development of 
 his humor. In a few moments he dropped into a 
 large arm-chair at the side of the grate. 
 
 " Sit down," said he, pointing to a couple of 
 chairs opposite him. 
 
 " Thank you, sir," replied Larry, as he obeyed 
 the command, and I followed his example. 
 
 " What's your name ? " demanded Sir Philip, 
 brusquely. 
 
 " Lawrence Grimsby," replied Larry, in the 
 same quick business tones. 
 
 " Where did you get that name ? " 
 
 " I don't know, sir." 
 
 " Who are your parents ? " 
 
 " I don't know, sir." 
 
 " Where were you born ? " 
 
 " I don't know, sir." 
 
 " How old are you ? " 
 
 " I don't know, sir." 
 
 " Do you know anything ? " 
 
 " I do, sir." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " That you are a Yevy singular old baronet, Sir 
 Philip." 
 
 " Good ! Upon my life, ycu are rather more 
 
114 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 than half right," chuckled the baronet, as he rose 
 and rung the bell, which was instantly answered 
 by Breck. 
 
 " Champagne," said the old gentleman, laconical- 
 ly, as the man appeared and disappeared almost in 
 the same instant. " Yes, I'm a queer old fellow ; 
 but I'm not a bad man." 
 
 " You bet ! " 
 
 " Sir ? " interrogated the baronet, evidently un- 
 able to comprehend Larry's western Americanism. 
 
 " You remarked, Sir Philip, that you are not a 
 bad man. You "can bet on that," explained Larry ; 
 and I confess that his easy familiarity shocked and 
 alarmed me. 
 
 " I can repeat with unction the words of the 
 Litany, and call myself a miserable sinner, and 
 upon my life I believe it. I have left undone 
 those things which I ought to have done, and I 
 have done those things which I ought not to have 
 done," added the baronet, more seriously. 
 
 " That's just what Phil says, though not exactly 
 in those words," added Larry, glibly. 
 
 " Pray, who's Phil ? " 
 
 " Mr. Farringford here, sir. He is about the 
 only real friend I have in the world, and he's a 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 115 
 
 right down good fellow — pious, too. He lias 
 opened my eyes wider in a week than I ever 
 could get them in my whole lifetime before." 
 
 " Never mind Phil now," said the baronet, 
 rather petulantly. 
 
 " He is not a cipher, Sir Philip." 
 
 " I have no fault to find with him. I may say 
 that I am very glad to find you in the company of 
 so estimable a young gentleman ; butive will speak 
 of something else." 
 
 " I desire to be entirely ignored, sir ; and if 
 you wish, I will leave the room," I interposed. 
 
 " Not necessary, Mr. Farringford. You seem to 
 have a talent for holding your tongue ; and I have 
 no doubt you will be able to keep to yourself 
 whatever we wish to conceal." 
 
 " I will betray no one's confidence," I replied. 
 
 " All right, Phil ; don't leave me," added Larry. 
 
 " He need not leave you, Lawrence," said Sir 
 Philip. " Now we will attend to business." 
 
 " Precisely so, sir. You were saying — " 
 
 "Hold up! the champagne comes," interposed 
 the old gentleman, checking Larry's remark, as 
 Breck entered the room with a bottle and several 
 glasses on a salver. 
 
116 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 The well-trained servant deposited the tray on a 
 table, and then popped the bottle of champagne. 
 Filling three glasses, he placed them on a small 
 salver, and passed them first to me. 
 
 " No, I thank you ; none for me," I replied. 
 
 " No champagne ! " exclaimed the baronet. 
 
 " No, sir ; I never drink anything that can 
 intoxicate," I replied. 
 
 " Champagne don't intoxicate, any more than 
 goat's milk," added Sir Philip. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir ; but I never drink it," I an- 
 swered, embarrassed at the situation, for I knew 
 something of the requirements of English hospital- 
 ity, though I did not think they ought to compel 
 me to make a fool or a sot of myself. 
 
 Breck presented the salver to Larry. 
 
 " I must beg to be excused, also," he replied, 
 somewhat to my surprise. 
 
 " No champagne, Lawrence ! " said Sir Philip, 
 with a slight frown. 
 
 " None, sir ; I follow Phil's lead now. At . any 
 rate, I'm going to try on his temperance principles 
 for a while." 
 
 " Suit yourselves, young gentlemen," added the 
 baronet, impatiently. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 117 
 
 Breck passed the salver to him, and he took his 
 glass. The servant then placed the table at the 
 side of his master, on which he put the tray, with 
 the bottle upon it, adjusting the cork, so as to 
 prevent the effervescence as much as possible of 
 its contents. 
 
 " Mr. Miles is in the drawing-room, sir ; and the 
 ladies have all retired," said Breck, as he finished 
 with careful precision the arrangements which 
 were plainly an every-day routine with him. 
 
 " Give him my good night, and bid him. retire, 
 also," replied the baronet. 
 
 Breck was evidently dissatisfied with this decis- 
 ion, and I concluded that Miles was in the habit 
 of visiting the library in the later part of the even- 
 ing, and probably drank champagne with his 
 grandfather ; but the man was too well trained 
 to say anything more, and retired at once. 
 
 " If I should die to-night, you would be Sir 
 Lawrence Grimsby in the morning," said the 
 baronet again, as he drained his glass. " Now I 
 dare say you are willing I should finish this bottle 
 alone, and even send for another, for with your tee- 
 total principles, you believe it will help me off." 
 
 " If I knew I should attain to the distinguished 
 
118 • BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 position you suggest, Sir Philip, I should still ask 
 m}?" friend Phil to pray that you might live to bo 
 eighty, at least; I don't pray myself." 
 
 " I don't believe it, you rascal ! When you 
 know me more, you will love me less." 
 
 "I hope not, Sir Philip; but of course I can't 
 tell," answered Larry, with refreshing candor. 
 
 " No, you don't hope not," added the baronet, as 
 he filled and drank off another glass of champagne. 
 
 " I'm bound to say I shouldn't love a man if he 
 wasn't a good fellow, even though he was a baro- 
 net. A man might be a baronet and. still be a 
 rascal ; but I don't believe you are anything of 
 the sort." 
 
 " Upon my life, I believe I am ! " 
 
 " Upon my soul, I believe you are not." 
 
 " Don't be so rude, Larry," I said in a whisper. 
 
 " Let him speak his mind, Mr. Farringford ; I 
 like it," interposed Sir Philip ; and I subsided 
 at once. 
 
 " I can't very well help saying just what I 
 think," continued Larry. 
 
 " Good ! 1 knew another young fellow who was 
 just as blunt and independent," replied Sir Philip, 
 with more emotion than I could explain. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 119 
 
 " Who was he, sir ? " asked Larry. 
 
 " Take off your coat, Lawrence," said the old 
 gentleman, sharply. 
 
 My friend promptly sprang to his feet at this 
 singular command, but paused, and glanced at the 
 baronet, as if to ascertain whether he was in 
 earnest. 
 
 " Off with it," said the baronet, making a gesture 
 of impatience. 
 
 Larry quickly took off his black coat, and tossed 
 it into his chair. 
 
 " Roll up your shirt-sleeve on the left arm," con- 
 tinued Sir Philip, much excited, as he rose from 
 his chair. 
 
 Larry complied. 
 
 " Turn round to the light. There it is ! " 
 
 The baronet dropped back into his chair. 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Larry. " Do you mean my 
 raspberry ? " 
 
 " The red mark on your left arm. It is about 
 the size and color of a red raspberry," replied the 
 old gentleman, struggling to be calm, and suc- 
 ceeding tolerably well. " Did you ever see it 
 before, Lawrence ? " 
 
 " To be sure I have. I remember that mark as 
 long as I can remember anything." 
 
120 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Let me see it again," added Sir Philip, rising 
 and taking a musty letter from the writing-table. 
 " I can't see ; read, Mr. Farringford, from the top 
 of the third page." 
 
 " ' The vaccination mark is one inch lower, and 
 half an inch nearer the body, than the reddish spot, 
 which is shaped like a raspberry. I know no — ' " 
 
 " That's enough. Let us see if it is so." 
 
 Both of us compared the marks with the de- 
 scription. 
 
 " The measurements are not right ; but the child 
 has become a man, and they would not remain the 
 same," said Sir Philip. 
 
 " The relative positions are as described in the 
 letter," I added. 
 
 " Precisely ; there is no doubt of it ; but the 
 name and the boy's features are enough. I am 
 satisfied. Lawrence, you are my grandson, beyond 
 the possibility of a doubt. Put on your coat." 
 
 " I am very glad to be anybody's grandson, 
 more especially yours, Sir Philip," answered Larry, 
 who was not half so much excited by the remark- 
 able events of the evening as 1 was. " I have 
 been a waif all my life, and it is rather jolly to 
 think of being picked up by a grandfather ; but 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 121 
 
 I'm afraid there's some mistake. Somebody has 
 been getting up a cheap romance at my expense. 
 I don't want to be a hero. I hate the very idea." 
 
 " Keep quiet, my boy." 
 
 " Don't attempt to hug me, or anything of that 
 sort. If you do, I shall scream like a heroine." 
 
 "Don't disturb yourself; I shall not hug you 
 yet; but a mistake is utterly impossible," added 
 the baronet, and he quaffed another glass of wine. 
 " I will explain it all now." 
 
 But at that moment there was a knock at the 
 door, and Miles Grimsby entered when his grand- 
 father told him to " come in." 
 
122 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL RELATES THE STORY THE BARONET 
 TOLD, AND LARRY MEETS BLANCHE IN THE GARDEN. 
 
 "TELL, Miles, what do you want ? Didn't I 
 send word to you that you might re- 
 tire ? " said the baronet, when his grandson 
 entered the library. 
 
 " You did, sir ; but it is very unusual for you to 
 send me to bed without bidding me good night; 
 and now I have been absent half a year," replied 
 Miles, glancing first at Larry and then at me, as 
 though he feared some conspiracy against him was 
 in progress. 
 
 " You are quite right, Miles, my boy. There ; 
 give me your hand, boy ; good night, and God 
 bless you ! " 
 
 "Good night, grandfather," replied the young 
 man ; but he did not seem disposed to go. 
 
 The baronet was silent then, and Miles, finding 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 123 
 
 that his presence was a burden, left the room ; but 
 I saw the flush of anger on his cheek, and he 
 slammed the door behind him more violently than 
 the occasion required. . 
 
 " Poor fellow ! I'm sorry for him," said Sir 
 Philip ; " but I must do justice, tardy though it 
 be, before God and man. I think the boy suspects 
 something." 
 
 " I have no desire to injure Miles, Sir Philip," 
 protested Larry. 
 
 " I dare say you have not, Lawrence ; but you 
 have put the boy's nose out of joint : you have, 
 indeed, and his father's, too. As I said before, if I 
 should die to-night, you would be Sir Lawrence 
 Grimsby in the morning. I will tell you all about 
 it now, and to-morrow I shall go with you before a 
 magistrate, and acknowledge you as my grandson." 
 
 I will give Sir Philip's story in substance, for 
 he elaborated the details much more than is neces- 
 sary for my present purpose. The baronet was 
 now sixty-six years old, but he appeared to be 
 entirely hale and hearty, though I fancied that he 
 would go off suddenly before many years, if he 
 drank as much wine every night as on the present 
 occasion. He had been the father of three sons, 
 
124 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 the oldest of whom, Philip, was of course the heir 
 to the baronet's title and estates. The name of 
 the second son was Lawrence, while the third was 
 Miles, the only one at present living. Twenty 
 years before, Lawrence had married a poor girl, 
 whose only dowry was her beauty. Sir Philip 
 was violently opposed to this match ; for the girl 
 was not only penniless, but was the daughter of a 
 poor mechanic. He assured his son he would dis- 
 own and cast him out if he persisted in his dis- 
 obedience ; but Lawrence was an independent 
 young man, and was, withal, so deeply smitten 
 with the low-born maiden that he persisted in his 
 purpose, and married her. The baronet was true 
 to his promise. He disowned and cast off the 
 disobedient son, refusing even to see him, or to 
 grant him a penny to supply his wants. 
 
 Lawrence had been brought up to no occupa- 
 tion, and he could do nothing in England, though 
 he remained there until after the birth of his only 
 child. He borrowed money enough te convey his 
 little family to New York. He was determined to 
 struggle manfully with his hard lot ; but he had 
 no qualifications for business, and the battle went 
 against him. He obtained a small situation as a 
 
THE STEUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 125 
 
 clerk, but was unable even to retain this, and 
 actually suffered for the want of food. For the 
 want of the comforts of life his wife died. Then 
 he wrote to his father ; but the baronet sternly- 
 refused to heed the touching appeal. Lawrence 
 struggled only for a brief period more with the 
 rough fortunes of life, and then died himself, and 
 was buried by public charity. While he was sick, 
 and only waiting for death to put an end to his 
 misery, he wrote again to his father, appealing to 
 him this time only for the little child, which had 
 already been sent to the Orphan Asylum. He 
 described the boy, so that his father's agent might 
 identify him, and was careful that he should bear 
 his own name. 
 
 This letter touched the heart of Sir Philip, and 
 he privately sent an agent to look up the father 
 and the child. The former was dead and in his 
 grave, and the agent was unable to find the latter. 
 In the mean time another grief had come to soften 
 the heart of the baronet. His oldest son was 
 killed by a falL from his horse in a fox hunt. 
 Philip, this son, had died unmarried, though he 
 was engaged to the daughter of a peer at the 
 time of the fatal accident. A second attempt was 
 
126 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 made to find the son of Lawrence, but without any 
 better success. Miles, the third son, had married 
 a daughter of Sir Hale Groveland, Knight, and 
 was the father of several children, of whom Miles 
 was the oldest, and at the death of his father 
 would have been the heir of the title and estates, 
 if my friend Larry had not stepped between him 
 and his apparent destiny. Mr. Fennimore had 
 married another daughter of Sir Hale Grove- 
 land, which' explained the connection between the 
 families. 
 
 " Do you understand it now, Lawrence ? " asked 
 the baronet, as he finished his recital. 
 
 " Perfectly, sir ; the matter is double leaded, 
 with a pica fist before it. Your first son, Philip, 
 who was the heir of the title and its appendages, 
 is dead. My father came next," replied Larry. 
 
 " Yes, my boy ; for Philip died without issue. 
 Then, as your father is dead, you come next." 
 
 " Just so ; and Miles is left out in the cold." 
 
 " Of course I shall take care of him and his 
 father, in my will ; but the bulk of my property 
 goes to you, Lawrence." 
 
 " Well, sir, I hope you will not have occasion to 
 part with it for a good many years. But I desire 
 to make an even thing of it." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 127 
 
 " Impossible ! " exclaimed the baronet. 
 
 " As for the title, Miles senior and his son may 
 have that. I wouldn't turn my hand for it," added 
 Larry, with easy indifference. 
 
 " It can't be done. These things are all fixed 
 by the laws and customs of JEngland, and must not 
 be set aside. It is a new matter to you now, and 
 you will change your mind in regard to the title in 
 a few months, or weeks." 
 
 " Perhaps I shall." 
 
 " If I live till to-morrow, I shall arrange every- 
 thing. In the mean time, not a word must be said 
 about this business. I don't wish to stir up my. 
 son and grandson yet ; and I want time to look the 
 matter over. Now you may retire, my boys." 
 
 " I was going to London, to-morrow, with Phil," 
 said Larry. 
 
 " Go with him, if you like. I would rather have 
 you out of the way for a few weeks." 
 
 " Eight, Sir Philip. I would like to take a run 
 on the continent, and see a little of the world 
 there, but I don't happen to have the needful." 
 
 " Do you mean money ? " 
 
 " That's exactly what I mean ; and that has been 
 the one thing needful to me all my life." 
 
128 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " You shall not want for money, if fifty thousand 
 pounds will supply your needs." 
 
 " I don't want fifty thousand pounds ; only — let 
 me see — eleven or twelve thousand, at present," 
 replied Larry, lightly. 
 
 " You shall have it to-morrow morning, if you 
 desire." 
 
 " I do desire it very much indeed. Ten thou- 
 sand pounds would do me more good than any- 
 thing else in the world. I would rather have it 
 than be an earl or a duke." 
 
 " You shall have it ; though it is rather a large 
 sum for a boy; but I am willing to make up for 
 the past with you. Now, go to your rooms. I 
 am tired." 
 
 We went to our chambers. I was amazed at the 
 coolness and self-possession of my friend. I was 
 excited myself, but he was not. 
 
 " You are the strangest mortal I ever saw, 
 Larry ! " I exclaimed, as we dismissed the valet, 
 and I closed the door behind him. 
 
 " I know it," replied he, with a light laugh. 
 " Ton my word, you speak only the truth, as you 
 always do, Phil." 
 
 " You don't seem to be the least moved or 
 excited at your remarkably good fortune." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 129 
 
 " The fact is, Phil, I have always had a feeling 
 that I was born for something of this kind, and I 
 am not much surprised at what has occurred." 
 
 " I am. Yesterday you were a vagabond ; to- 
 day, the heir of one of the richest houses in 
 England." 
 
 " I shall be able to pay you the little sum I bor- 
 rowed of you now, Phil." 
 
 " Never mind that. I think you are a modest 
 young man, Larry, most asfoundingly so. What in 
 the world did you mean by asking Sir Philip for 
 eleven or twelve thousand pounds." 
 
 " I have a pressing need for that little sum." 
 
 " Are you mad ? Do you know how much you 
 asked for ? " 
 
 " I think I do — eleven or twelve thousand 
 pounds." 
 
 " Between fifty and sixty thousand dollars ! " 
 
 " Just so ; I had arithmetic enough to figure 
 that out." 
 
 " But you cannot mean it." 
 
 " Ton my word I do — every penny of it." 
 
 " No, you don't ; you can't use it. Two or three 
 thousand dollars is all you need to spend on the 
 continent, even if you travel like a prince." 
 9 
 
130 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " I don't want it for that. I want ten thousand 
 of it for quite another purpose. Draw near to 
 me, Phil ; open your ears, and listen to me. ' He 
 that hath ears to hear, let him hear.' I set that 
 up once, as the text of a sermon, which explains 
 how I happen to remember it. Do you know Miss 
 Blanche Fennimore ? " 
 
 " Of course I do." 
 
 " So do I. Possibly you may know that her 
 father got into some sort of difficulty with the bank 
 at Lowerville," continued Larry, very seriously. 
 
 " Certainly I do ; you are aware that I am 
 in possession of all the facts,' 7 I answered, im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " Probably Blanche has no suspicion that her 
 father was anything but an honest, upright 
 man." 
 
 " We are certain that she knows nothing about 
 the crime of her father." 
 
 " According to your Christian logic, Phil, the 
 first thing a man should do to atone for his crime 
 is to make all the reparation in his power." 
 
 " To be sure ; and Mr. Fennimore did all that 
 was in his power." 
 
 " Well, I propose to do what it was not in his 
 
THF STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 131 
 
 power to do ; in other words, to make good the 
 rest of his defalcation. How is that for high ? " 
 
 " Why should you do such a thing? " I asked, 
 amazed at this proposition. 
 
 " Not for my own sake, I grant, but for 
 Blanche's. If she should ever learn that her 
 father's fingers were greasy in the money-bags, 
 don't you think she would feel better about it 
 if she knew that every red had been restored to 
 the bank?" 
 
 " Certainly she would ; but I do not see that 
 you are called upon to do such a romantic deed," 
 I" replied. 
 
 " Romantic — is it ? " laughed Larry. " Well, 
 perhaps it is. Who knows? I'm not much on 
 romance ; but if the baronet ponies up the rocks, I 
 shall pay every red that Blanche's father stole or 
 owed. Phil, I love that girl." 
 
 "You are smitten, I know; but don't hurry 
 about the matter." 
 
 " Hurry? I'm up to my ears now. You might 
 as well attempt to check Niagara as a thing of this 
 kind. I've got it bad, Phil." 
 
 " I'm sorry for you, Larry." 
 
 " You needn't be. I'm no longer a vagabond, 
 
132 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 and the case looks hopeful to me now, though it 
 never did before." 
 
 " You are getting tame and commonplace now, 
 and I think we had' better turn in." 
 
 It seemed incredible to me, but Larry was 
 snoring in ten minutes more ; yet I must do him 
 the justice to say that he snored only when he 
 was very tired. He had slept very little during 
 the voyage, and neither the thought of Blanche, 
 nor of the good fortune that had so suddenly over- 
 taken him, could keep him awake. I agreed with 
 him in considering his case a very hopeful one ; 
 for the heart of the fair girl was filled with grati- 
 tude to'him for his care of her father. Of course 
 she had not thought of love ; but she was kindly 
 disposed towards him. 
 
 We did not get up very early the next morning. 
 Attached to the Hall was a beautiful garden, in 
 which Larry and I walked before breakfast. On a 
 rustic bridge across the brook that wandered 
 through the garden we met Blanche. She was 
 very sad ; but she smiled when she saw us, and 
 extended her hand to both. 
 
 " I suppose we must leave you to-day, Miss Fen- 
 nimore," said Larry, as we walked along together. 
 
'~ ~ "" 1 ~j>ji ^Hifrwpirji ~- '_~'7IIirM!TJ'(li in IM¥T .vTiTninill'' 
 
 ■lite—- 7 ^ * fsii^m u« 
 
 
 mfjF^p^m^' ' : 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 133 
 
 " So soon ? " 
 
 " We have already staid longer than we in- 
 tended," I added. " Perhaps we may never see 
 you again." 
 
 " Do not say that ; I am sure I should be very 
 unhappy if I believed I were never again to see 
 such good friends as you have been to me — and 
 my father," she answered, with much emotion. 
 " Do come to Grimsby Hall when you return from 
 the continent ; for I am to stay with my aunt this 
 summer, and perhaps longer." 
 
 " I shall certainly come again, whether Mr. Far- 
 ringford does or not," said Larry. 
 
 " I shall be so glad to see you ! But I hope you 
 will both come. I shall be so lonely, now that he 
 is gone ! " she replied, her voice choking as she 
 thought of her father. " I shall never think of 
 him without thinking of you." 
 
 " If I never see you again, I never shall for- 
 get you," continued Larry ; and after this re- 
 mark, I thought I had better drop a reason- 
 able distance behind them, though I knew that 
 my friend had too much good sense to make 
 a " declaration " at such a time, and under such 
 circumstances. 
 
134 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 My plan was assisted by Miles, who presently 
 joined me from a by-path. I saw that he was 
 troubled, but I hoped he would not speak to me 
 about our conference with Sir Philip. 
 
 " I hear you are off to-rlay, Phil," said he. 
 
 " Yes, we go to London by the noon train." 
 
 " And where then are you going ? " 
 
 " I go to Nice, by the way of Paris and Mar- 
 seilles." 
 
 " But there is going to be a bloody big row in 
 Italy this summer." 
 
 " For that reason I am in haste to find my 
 mother before the war breaks up the travel." 
 
 " Perhaps you won't mind telling me what you 
 were talking about with Sir Philip last night," 
 said he, after a short pause. 
 
 " I would rather Sir Philip should tell you him- 
 self, if he thinks proper," I replied. 
 
 " You won't tell me, then ? " 
 
 " I do not feel at liberty to do so without your 
 grandfather's permission." 
 
 " You needn't trouble yourself. I know now." 
 
 " Indeed ? " 
 
 " I do, indeed." 
 
 " The matter does not concern me, and I have 
 nothing to say or do about it." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 135 
 
 " By the noon train," said he. " I am going up 
 to London at the same time." 
 
 " We should be happy to have your company." 
 
 " Thanks ; " and without another word he turned 
 into a side-path, and disappeared. 
 
 His conduct appeared very singular to me. 
 
136 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY GO TO LONDON, AND 
 MILES GRIMSBY IS VERY MUCH EXCITED. 
 
 ri^HE actions of Miles Grimsby were not easy 
 JL to explain. He told me bluntly that he knew 
 the subject of the conversation with the baronet 
 in the library ; but I did not see how this was 
 possible, even if he had so far lost his self-respect 
 as to become an eavesdropper ; for the fireplace, 
 near which we sat, was too far from the door to 
 permit a listener to hear what was said. Of 
 course he knew the story of his uncle Lawrence, 
 and 1 concluded that he simply suspected the 
 relation of my friend to him. I did not see Larry 
 again till we met at the breakfast table. What- 
 ever the nature of the interview between him and 
 Miss Fennimore, there was nothing in her look 
 to indicate that anything unusual had occurred, 
 though I did think my friend was more cheerful. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 137 
 
 After the meal, we went with the baronet to a 
 magistrate, a gentleman of distinction, and, 1 at 
 once inferred, an intimate friend of Sir Philip. 
 
 " Here he is, Sir John," said the baronet, in- 
 dicating Larry with a nod of his head. 
 
 " Impossible ! " exclaimed the magistrate, with a 
 promptness which showed that this was not the 
 first time the subject had been mentioned. " You 
 are deceived." 
 
 " No, I am not. I purpose to prove all 1 say, 
 inch by inch, to your satisfaction, Sir John ; and 
 mulish as you are, you will be satisfied before I 
 am done. I have no time to spare, and we will 
 begin at once." 
 
 Sir Philip placed the letters of his deceased son 
 in the hands of the magistrate. 
 
 " You have read them before," he continued. 
 " Off with your coat, Lawrence." 
 
 Larry prepared himself for this examination. 
 While he was doing so, Sir Philip produced a 
 miniature of his deceased son Lawrence. It was 
 painted on ivory ; and looking at the face alone, I 
 should have supposed it to be the portrait of 
 Larry. Sir John acknowledged that the picture 
 was a perfect likeness. The blood mark on the 
 
138 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 arm corresponded with the description in the 
 letter, and after Larry had related all that he 
 knew, or had heard, of his early life, the magis- 
 trate declared that he was satisfied. He wrote a 
 document, which covered a page of foolscap, to 
 the effect that Sir Philip acknowledged Larry to 
 be the son of his deceased son Lawrence, which 
 we all signed, and the business was finished. 
 From the magistrate's we went to the banker's, 
 where the baronet drew twelve thousand pounds, 
 in Bank of England notes. 
 
 " Here, my boy," said Sir Philip, as he handed 
 him the entire amount. 
 
 11 But, Sir Philip, I intended to tell you what I 
 wished to do with this money," replied Larry, as 
 he coolly took the roll of bills. " Perhaps you 
 will not approve the purpose to which I shall 
 apply it." 
 
 " Don't tell me anything about it. I am too 
 nervous to hear. I regard this money as a small 
 drop of atonement for the past. Say uothing more 
 about it." 
 
 " I shall send most of it to America." 
 
 " Send it to China, if you like. Have you seen 
 Miles to-day?" 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. . 139 
 
 " Yes, sir, I saw him, but did not speak with 
 .him." 
 
 " I met him in the garden," I interposed, and 
 related what had passed between him and myself. 
 
 " The boy understands it all," said the baronet, 
 uneasily. " He is a strange fellow ; but I don't 
 know that there is anything bad about . him. 
 Did he say he was going to London by the noon 
 train? " 
 
 " He did, sir." 
 
 " He always has his own way. He has been a 
 pet at Grimsby Hall. Let him go to London, if he 
 pleases. Very likely he wishes to consult some 
 lawyer there. It would not be strange if I out- 
 lived the boy's father, who is feeble in body and 
 mind." 
 
 I had already concluded that all was not right 
 with the elder Miles. He seldom spoke to any 
 one, and had a vacant expression. Though his 
 wife had been absent six months, I observed 
 that he had little or nothing to say to her. On 
 the whole, it seemed to me like a very strange 
 family. 
 
 We saw Blanche again, and I was satisfied that 
 an excellent understanding subsisted between her 
 
140 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 and Larry. Each promised to write the other. 
 My friend had also agreed to write to his grand- 
 father every week. A carriage conveyed us to 
 the station, and we were attended by the baronet 
 and Blanche ; but Miles went in the dog cart by 
 himself. 
 
 " Now, good by, my boy," said Sir Philip. 
 " Take good care of yourself; for I depend more 
 on you than on any one else. When I write to you 
 to come home, come without an hour's delay." 
 
 " I will obey you in all things, sir," replied 
 Larry. - 
 
 " Are you going to London, Miles ? " asked the 
 baronet, as the young man stepped up to him. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I want to see some American friends 
 there. I may go over the continent with them." 
 
 " Have you money enough ? " 
 
 " Plenty, sir." 
 
 " God bless you, my boy. Take care of your- 
 self," added the baronet, but with less feeling, I 
 thought, than he had spoken to Larry. 
 
 Though the intercourse between Miles and his 
 grandfather was attended with all the forms of 
 love and tenderness, I began to see that it was 
 rather formal. We stepped into an empty com- 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 141 
 
 partment, as the train stopped, and were soon on 
 our way to London. Miles placed himself at the 
 farther end of the compartment, and did not speak 
 for an hour. His presence prevented Larry and 
 myself from talking of what was uppermost in our 
 minds ; but for my own part, I was content to gaze 
 on the bright green fields of England, and see 
 what I could of the beautiful country. Miles was 
 very nervous and uneasy, fidgeting from one seat 
 to another, trying to look out at the open window, 
 but occasionally casting furtive glances at Larry 
 and me. When he had kept this up until the 
 train was half way to London, he came to our end 
 of the compartment, and seated himself at my side, 
 facing my friend. It was evident that he intended 
 to say something, but he only looked at Larry for 
 several minutes. 
 
 u It seems that you don't look like me for 
 nothing," said he, at last. 
 
 " Well, Miles, I don't think I look any more like 
 you than you do like me," replied Larry, smiling. 
 " I don't know whether you mean to say that 
 John Jones looks like the king, or the king like 
 John Jones." 
 
 " Either way you please. I only meant to say 
 that there is a strong resemblance between us." 
 
142 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 4 
 
 " Eight ; I grant that." 
 
 " It is not accidental," added Miles, nervously. 
 
 " I'm no philosopher.'' 
 
 " What were you and my grandfather talking 
 about last night?" 
 
 "For further particulars, apply* to Sir Philip 
 Grimsby, Bart,, Grimsby Hall," laughed Larry. 
 
 " Well, I know." 
 
 " If you do, it is folly to ask." 
 
 " You are the son of my uncle Lawrence, who 
 died in America." 
 
 " Is that so ? " demanded Larry. 
 
 " You know that it is." 
 
 " Cousin, your hand, if that is so ; and thank you 
 for the information," replied Larry, extending his 
 hand to the discomfited young man. " If what 
 you say is true, we are cousins." 
 
 " We are," answered Miles, taking the offered 
 hand. " But I'm not glad to see you." 
 
 " That's candid and honest ; but are you quite 
 sure that what you say is true ? " 
 
 " Why did my grandfather send for you last 
 night? Why did you stay with him till morning? 
 Where did you go with him this forenoon ? " 
 
 " Ask Sir Philip." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 143 
 
 " I have no occasion to ask him." 
 
 " Have you taken the dimensions of the key- 
 hole of Sir Philip's library door ? " 
 
 " No ! Don't insult me ! " 
 
 " I will not ; pardon me." 
 
 "Since you have uttered a suspicion, I will say 
 that I did not hear a word that was said in the 
 library, or anywhere else, on this subject, between 
 you and my grandfather ; but I understand it 
 all. My mother gave me all the information I 
 needed." 
 
 " Miles, I haven't a word to say about it," added 
 Larry, more earnestly than he had yet spoken. 
 
 " I took you for a good fellow on board of the 
 steamer, and I expected something like mag- 
 nanimity from you," muttered Miles. 
 
 " Magnanimity is a long word, and I am not in a 
 condition to be magnanimous towards you. If the 
 time ever comes when I can exercise this noble 
 sentiment in regard to you, I trust I shall not be 
 found wanting." 
 
 " That won't do," growled Miles. 
 
 " But it must do," answered Larry, with energy. 
 
 " Don't make me your enemy, Lawrence." 
 
 " I don't intend to do that ; but if you insist 
 
144 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 upon being my enemy, I suppose I must submit, 
 for I can't help myself." 
 
 " I give you fair and timely warning," added 
 Miles, shaking his head. 
 
 " I acknowledge the receipt of the fair and 
 timely warning," said Larry, with the most pro- 
 voking indifference. 
 
 " What do you desire of Larry ? " I asked, fear- 
 ful that a quarrel was brewing, and desirous of 
 avoiding any unpleasantness. 
 
 " I desire him to be candid and honest with me, 
 which he will not. He pretends to know nothing 
 about the matter of which I speak. He will 
 neither deny nor acknowledge the truth of what I 
 say," replied Miles, turning to me, much excited. 
 
 " I have been present at all the interviews of 
 my friend with Sir Philip, and what passed 
 between them was entirely confidential. The 
 baronet imposed silence upon Larry and upon 
 me, and without acknowledging or denying the 
 truth of what you say, Miles, neither he nor I 
 have any right to repeat a word that passed at 
 these conferences. Larry is entirely honorable 
 about the matter, and no gentleman should at- 
 tempt to worm out of another what the latter 
 distinctly declares is confidential." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 145 
 
 "Do you mean to tell me that I am no gentle- 
 man ? " demanded Miles, whose tone and manner 
 indicated that I had not bettered the matter. 
 
 " Nothing of the kind ; but I trust you will see 
 that it is not proper to press this subject any 
 farther,-" I promptly replied. 
 
 " But the subject concerns me more nearly than 
 any other person, and. is of vastly more con- 
 sequence to me than to my father, or even my 
 grandfather. If Larry comes to England and to 
 Grimsby Hall as the son of my uncle Lawrence, ho 
 robs me of my inheritance, and makes a beggar of 
 me. Do you expect me to keep quiet under such 
 circumstances?" continued Miles, warming up at 
 what he evidently regarded as his wrongs. 
 
 " The statement you make is neither admitted 
 nor denied, and we can say nothing about the 
 matter." 
 
 " That will do, Phil. Don't open your mouth on 
 the subject again." 
 
 " Your friend is an adventurer," added Miles, 
 still addressing me. " I was till yesterday the 
 prospective heir of the title and estates of my 
 grandfather. Now he steps in between me and all 
 my earthly hopes." 
 10 
 
146 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " This is a fine country, Phil," said Larry. 
 
 " And he refuses me even a word of explana- 
 tion," persisted Miles. 
 
 " Beautiful country," I added. 
 
 " Sir Philip is one of the ten richest men in Eng- 
 land, and his estates and income would all have 
 been mine, if your friend had not come here to 
 blast my hopes." 
 
 " That's a pretty stream of water ; I suppose 
 they call it a river over here," said Larry. 
 
 " Very likely ; there isn't room enough here for 
 such rivers as the Mississippi, the Ohio, or even 
 the Hudson." 
 
 " You do not hear what I say," interposed Miles. 
 
 " Every word of it ; but we respectfully decline 
 to continue the conversation on the subject you 
 have chosen, for the reason we have distinctly 
 stated," I replied, gently, but firmly. 
 
 " I see that you intend to add insult to injury," 
 muttered Miles. 
 
 " Far from it." 
 
 " I give you fair warning, Lawrence Grimsby, if 
 that be your name, which I doubt." 
 
 " Receipt of warning duly acknowledged, Miles 
 Grimsby, if that is your name, which I don't 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 147 
 
 doubt; and I will give it to you in writing if you 
 desire," replied Larry. 
 
 " You have made me your enemy." 
 
 " Sorry for it, but must submit." 
 
 Miles suddenly darted to the corner of the com- 
 partment which he had before occupied, and, very 
 much agitated, drummed on the floor with his feet, 
 and pounded the cushions with his hands. 1 was 
 sorry for him, though, if my friend was really 
 the son of Lawrence Grimsby, deceased, Miles had 
 no right to complain. Certainly Larry had done 
 nothing himself to provoke the disappointed young 
 man ; on the contrary, he had been very forbearing 
 under his charges. During the rest of the journey 
 Miles twice attempted to resume the subject ; but 
 we declined even to speak of it again. When tlie 
 train stopped at Euston Square station, in London, 
 he darted out of the carriage with his portmanteau 
 in his hand, and disappeared in the crowd. Larry 
 and I took a cab, and drove to Morley's, in Trafal- 
 gar Square. We took a room together. 
 
 " Phil, this money is heavy in my pocket, and it 
 must be started off at once," said Larry. 
 
 " Are you determined to do this romantic act, 
 Larry ? " I asked. 
 
148 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Undoubtedly I am. I haven't wavered or 
 hesitated the millionth part of a second in my 
 purpose. You have the address of the president 
 of that bank in Lowerville. Now write a letter to 
 him ; tell him to put this money into his bank, and 
 never open his head to a single soul on earth, 
 except *to say that Mr. Fennimore's estate don't 
 owe the concern a red cent. I shall not feel easy 
 till the money is on its way." 
 
 I wrote the letter as Larry dictated, and then 
 we went to my bankers'. A bill on New York, in 
 favor of the president of the bank, was purchased, 
 the duplicates to be forwarded by the bankers 
 which I enclosed in the letter I had written. I 
 requested the gentleman to address his reply to 
 " Lawrence Grimsby, Esq.," care of my bankers. 
 My friend then invested the greater part of his 
 remaining funds in a letter of credit, good any- 
 where in Europe. 
 
 " Now I feel more like a Christian than I ever 
 did before in the whole course of my life," said 
 Larry, as we left the bankers'. " I even feel like 
 forgiving grandfather Sir Philip for making me a 
 rich man." 
 
 " I dare say you do. But how in regard to 
 Miles?" 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 149 
 
 " I don't feel a bit hard towards him. I'm sorry 
 for him: if I were he, perhaps I should be ps 
 much disgruntled as he is ; but I doubt it. Now, 
 Phil, let me pay you what I owe you ; for really 
 that's one of the greatest pleasures in the known 
 world." 
 
 Larry paid me the money I had advanced in 
 cash and for clothing ; but I positively refused to 
 take the sum I had given after the accident, and 
 we compromised it by his purchashing a gold 
 watch at Bennett's, on the case of which he had 
 my name engraved as the giver. 
 
150 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY MAKE THE ACQUAINTANCE 
 OF A MAN WITH A PREPOSTEROUS HAT, AND START 
 FOR ITALY. 
 
 I COULD not lose sight of the fact that I was in 
 London, the metropolis of the world, though I 
 had not time to see its sights. I was deeply in- 
 terested, in its crowded streets and its massive 
 public buildings. From the bankers' w T e went 
 down to London Bridge, then to the Bank, the 
 Tower of London, and other sights in that part of 
 the city. The next day we went to Westminster 
 Abbey and Palace, through the Parks, and into the 
 British Museum. This was all we were able to 
 see of London on this visit. I had stopped longer 
 than I intended already, and I was in haste to reach 
 Paris, where I expected to find a letter from Mar- 
 ian Collingsby, my cousin, who had promised to 
 give me the latest intelligence in regard to my 
 mother. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 151 
 
 On the morning of the third day after our arri- 
 val, we left for Paris, and arrived in the evening 
 of the same day. I hastened to the bankers, and 
 found three letters, one from Marian, one from 
 Ella Gracewood, and one from my father. My 
 cousin informed me that my mother had gone to 
 Milan, to spend several weeks with some Italian 
 friends, whose address she was unable to give me. 
 My father assured me that he was still well and 
 happy, and Ella's letter gave me a fluttering of 
 the heart, though it contained nothing which need 
 be transcribed to these pages. It was a very 
 pleasant letter, and one of that kind which a young 
 man reads all the way from twenty to a hundred 
 times. 
 
 Larry and I walked about the city for two hours, 
 till we had a tolerable idea of the central portion, 
 and then returned to the Hotel Meurice, where 
 we had taken a double room. The city was in 
 a blaze of excitement over the Italian war. The 
 emperor and the army had gone to take part in 
 the conflict which was to end in the expulsion 
 of the Austrians from Lombardy. The enthusiasm 
 was tremendous, and Larry and myself were in- 
 fected with it ; for it seemed to us like a war for 
 
 
152 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 liberty. Then France appeared to represent the 
 highest ideal of justice, and to bear a chivalrous part 
 in redeeming the oppressed from the oppressor. 
 Garibaldi's name was on every lip, and the fa- 
 mous hymn that bears his name was played by 
 every band, and whistled and sung by all the 
 people. 
 
 " There will be a lively time in Italy when we 
 get there, Phil," said Larry. 
 
 " I think so ; and I am afraid the war will spoil 
 all my calculations," I replied, as we entered the 
 garden of the Tuileries, where a band of music 
 had attracted a great crowd. 
 
 " This music stirs me clear down to my boots. 
 I believe, if I knew French well enough, I should 
 enter the army as a volunteer." 
 
 " You don't mean it." 
 
 " Yes, I do. I never cared much about playing 
 soldier ; but when it comes to the real matter, I 
 believe in it." 
 
 " But you have no wish to take part in these 
 European quarrels." 
 
 " Why not ? I believe in liberty. Austria and 
 tyranny mean the same thing." 
 
 " Your circumstances have changed." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 153 
 
 " They have ; but I have not changed. I am the 
 same old sixpence. I wish I could talk French." 
 
 " You say you can read it a little." 
 
 " I can ; but I can't tell what one of these French- 
 men says when he speaks any more than if lie 
 spoke the Hottentot lingo. You seem to be quite 
 at home at it, Phil." 
 
 " I began to study French when I was ten years- 
 old, and have kept i't up ever since. Miss Grace- 
 wood and I used to practise every day. I find I 
 can get along very well." 
 
 " First rate. By the way, Phil, do you see that 
 long-haired fellow on your right, smoking a cigar ? " 
 said Larry, nodding towards the individual. 
 
 " Yes ; and I have seen him half a dozen times 
 before to-day, in the steamer and on the train from 
 London." 
 
 The man to whom Larry alluded had long, black 
 hair, and a long, black mustache. He wore a 
 rather threadbare suit of black, with a black hat 
 which had possibly been in fashion some time dur- 
 ing the last ten years ; for it was preposterously 
 high in the crown and narrow in the brim. I had 
 heard and read a great deal about the spy sys- 
 tem of Paris, and I could, not help connecting this 
 
154 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 man with the French " shadows," who worm them- 
 selves into the confidence of all sorts of people, and 
 worm out of them all sorts of secrets. He looked 
 like a tricky and cunning man ; but as he had come 
 from London with us, a second thought assured me 
 that my suspicion was absurd. While I was think- 
 ing of the matter I saw four policemen approaching 
 us. I had seen some of these sergents de villenear 
 the station, and many of them in the streets and 
 boulevards. I could not help admiring their dress 
 and bearing. They wore gray linen pants, and 
 dark-blue dress coats, having rather long and broad 
 skirts, buttoned up to the throat, janty chapeaux 
 on their heads, and a light, slender sword at the 
 side, which hung from a belt inside of the coat. I 
 looked at them again, and more than ever admired 
 their appearance. They walked directly towards 
 us, and I was about to express my favorable opin- 
 ion of them to my friend, when, to my utter aston- 
 ishment, two of them " surrounded " me, and the 
 other two performed a similar service for Larry. 
 
 " Pardon, monsieur," said one of the pair at my 
 side, as they locked their arms in mine, and began 
 to move me towards the Rue Rivoli. 
 
 u Qu'est ce que vous voulez ? " I demanded. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 155 
 
 " Pardon, monsieur" was the only reply I re- 
 ceived, as the men hurried me over the walks to- 
 wards the street. 
 
 " I say, Phil, how's this ? " called Larry. 
 
 " I don't know ; I don't understand it." 
 
 " Vous vous trompez ! " (you are mistaken), ex- 
 claimed some one in a new voice behind me! 
 
 The policemen halted, and suddenly released their 
 hold of Larry and myself. Turning to see who had 
 thus kindly interposed in our favor, I discovered 
 the seedy, long-haired individual. 
 
 " Les messieurs sont Americains" added he, shak- 
 ing his head vigorously, as though he was much 
 mortified at the blunder. 
 
 "Pardon, messieurs" said the officers, as they 
 politely touched their chapeaux, and walked away 
 into the crowd. 
 
 What had passed satisfied me in regard to the 
 long-haired individual, that he was a member of the 
 secret police, a spy, or a stool-pigeon. He took off 
 his preposterous hat, bowed low, demanded "par- 
 don" and hastily retreated towards the Eue Rivo- 
 li ; for the crowd, never partial to men of his cloth, 
 were looking at him with suspicion and disfavor. 
 
 " I am sorry it ended so abruptly," laughed Lar- 
 
156 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 ry. '" I wanted to see more of it ; For I was in 
 hopes we were arrested as red republicans, or 
 something of that sort, and I rather like an adven- 
 ture." 
 
 " I am not at all anxious to be detained a week 
 or more here, though I suppose my passport would 
 have got me out of the scrape. By the way, Larry, 
 you ought to have such a document." 
 
 " I wouldn't give two cents for a barrel of them. 
 What do I want of a passport ? " 
 
 " To prove that you are an American citizen." 
 
 " If Sir Philip Grimsby and the spot on my arm 
 don't lie, I'm not an American citizen." 
 
 " No ; you are a Briton." 
 
 " I don't half like the idea ; but the pile of money 
 has a reconciling influence." 
 
 When the band in the garden had finished the 
 concert, we went over to the Hotel Meurice. As 
 we entered the court-yard, we saw the long-haired 
 individual seated in one of the iron chairs, quietly 
 smoking a cheap cigar, as I judged it was by the 
 villanousodor it exhaled. As soon as he perceived 
 us, he sprang to his feet, hastily removed his pre- 
 posterous hat, and bowed with the most extravagant 
 deference. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 157 
 
 " How are you, old boy ? What's the meaning 
 of the farce you played off on us in the garden ? " 
 said Larry, not supposing that the long-haired gen- 
 tleman could speak English. 
 
 " I came here to beg your pardon for the mis- 
 take," replied he, bowing low again. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Jones, you speak English ! " 
 
 " 0, yes ; I speak English, French, German, Span- 
 ish, Portuguese, and Italian, which is my native 
 language." 
 
 " Bully for you ! " exclaimed Larry. " Of course, 
 with as many lingos as that, you don't know how 
 to hold your tongue." 
 
 " Even better than I do to speak," replied he, 
 blandly. 
 
 " What did you take us to be ? " I inquired. 
 
 " I took you to be American gentlemen. I made 
 no mistake. It was the stupid policemen." 
 
 " Whom were you looking for ? " 
 
 " For London pickpockets : two came in the 
 train to-day." 
 
 " Then you are a police spy, Mr. Jones ? " in- 
 quired Larry. 
 
 " Do not mention it, if you please. I interfered 
 and betrayed myself rather than permit the police 
 to annoy you, even for a moment." 
 
158 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " All right, Mr. Jones. That was doing the 
 handsome thing, Mr. Jones." 
 
 " My name is Cuore [Koo-6-ray] — Giovanni 
 Cuore, at your service," added the spy, bowing 
 again. " In English, you would call me John 
 Hart," 
 
 " How did you know that we were Americans ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 " I heard you speak of America on the steamer. 
 I shall have the two pickpockets arrested, and then 
 I shall go to Italy," continued Cuore, who seemed 
 to be very communicative for a man whose business 
 it was to keep still. " I shall go to Nizza [Neet-za] 
 to-morrow night." 
 
 " Where is Nizza ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Ah, in English you call it Nice [Nees], as in 
 French." 
 
 " Are you going to Nice ? " And I was much 
 interested then, for 1 intended to go there myself, 
 in order to obtain some information in regard to 
 my mother. 
 
 " Yes ; to Nice, and then to Milan, where I was 
 born, and lived till I was twenty-two." - 
 
 This was exactly my own route, and I at once 
 regarded Signor Cuore as a person I wished to 
 know better. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 159 
 
 " But the Austrians will not allow you to visit 
 Milan," I suggested. 
 
 " I go where I please, in spite of Austrians, 
 French, or Sardinians," he replied, significantly. 
 
 " I suppose you intend to go into the spy busi- 
 ness," I added. 
 
 " Possibly," said he, shrugging his shoulders. 
 " But I must look for the two pickpockets. I know 
 where to find them, and in another hour they will 
 be in the Ccmciergerie. I only came to apologize 
 for the mistake ; " and taking off his hat, he began 
 to retreat backward towards the entrance. 
 
 " One moment, Monsieur Cuore. Will you break- 
 fast with us to-morrow morning at nine ? " I inter- 
 posed. 
 
 " You do me very great honor," he replied, with 
 the same extravagant deference* 
 
 " But I desire very much to see you again." 
 
 " I will accept your considerate invitation with 
 great pleasure." 
 
 " Nine o'clock." 
 
 " Nine o'clock ; bon soir, monsieur" he answered, 
 and departed. 
 
 "What do you want of that cove, Phil?" de- 
 manded Larry. 
 
160 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " He is going to Italy, and is an Italian. He can 
 help me." 
 
 " How do you know but he is a government 
 
 spy 
 
 ? » 
 
 " I don't care if he is. I have no intention of 
 subverting the government, or taking part with the 
 Austrians : so I have nothing to fear from all the 
 spies in the world." 
 
 We walked about the city during the evening, 
 and retired early. The next day all Paris was ring- 
 ing with the news of the battle of Montebello, in 
 which the French and Sardinians defeated the 
 Austrians. Punctually at nine o'clock came Signor 
 Cuore. He assured us the London pickpockets 
 were arrested, and that his mission was ended. 
 He made himself very agreeable, and was satisfied 
 that I should be able to enter Milan, if I would 
 submit to his direction. He would aid me in 
 every possible way. Indeed, Signor Cuore seemed 
 to exist just then for the sole purpose of serv- 
 ing me. 
 
 " We must go to Marseilles, and then by steamer 
 to Nice. The train leaves the station Boulevard 
 Mazas at twenty minutes past eight this evening," 
 said Cuore, as he bowed and scraped his adieus. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 1G1 
 
 " Now, Larry, I don't wish to drag you after 
 me," said I, when the spy had gone. 
 
 " Wherever thou goest, I goest," laughed he. 
 
 " I am going into a disturbed country." 
 
 " So much the better. If I can get near enough 
 to a great battle to see it, I shall do so. As I told 
 you, I had just as lief live as die, and I should 
 really like to take a hand in the fight for United 
 Italy. I hate an Austrian as bad as any of them." 
 
 " I may get near enough to be in danger. I shall 
 heed no peril. If I am sure that my mother is in 
 Milan, I shall go there at all hazards ; for she may 
 need my assistance, and one don't know what may 
 happen in war. But I won't ask you to go into 
 danger." 
 
 " I don't care for danger, Phil. I'm not a 
 chicken, and I think I can stand it anywhere 
 you can." 
 
 " I have been under fire, you know ; in fact, in 
 a battle." 
 
 "In a little Indian squabble," laughed Larry. 
 " I have been in a street fight, which is about the 
 same thing." 
 
 "I think not; about twenty men were killed in 
 my battle." 
 
 11 
 
162 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " That's pretty fair ; but the war in Italy this 
 summer will be no boys' play, and I want to be in 
 it, either as an actor or a spectator." 
 
 " Very Avell ; we are off to-night, then." 
 
 During the day we wrote our letters, drew what 
 money we needed, and, as we were going to a 
 troubled region, we sewed napoleons into our sus- 
 penders, waistbands, and other available places, so 
 that we need not be deprived of the ." sinews of 
 war," in case of accident. At the time indicated, 
 we were at the railroad station, where we found 
 Cuore, as bland and polite, and as ready to serve 
 us, as ever. Though the train Avas rather crowded, 
 we obtained a compartment to ourselves by his 
 skill and address, and we began to. realize the ben- 
 efit of having such an " old stager " with us. 
 
 At noon the next day we were in Marseilles, 
 where we embarked the same evening for Nice. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 163 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY CONTINUE THEIR JOUR- 
 NEY, AND MEET A FRENCH GENERAL OP BRIGADE. 
 
 WE were in Marseilles about six hours, and 
 had time to obtain a general view of the 
 city. Cuore followed us wherever we went, and 
 seemed to know the place as well as if he had 
 lived there all his life. The steamer in which 
 we embarked was French, and though she was 
 crowded with passengers on their way to the seat 
 of war, our zealous friend obtained the best ac- 
 commodations on board for us. Larry and myself 
 were exceedingly grateful to him for his attention. 
 The sea was delightfully smooth, and the course 
 of the vessel was in sight of the land. We re- 
 mained on deck till it was too dark to see any- 
 thing, and then retired to the cabin. • 
 
 " You will drink a bottle of champagne with me 
 now — won't you, gentlemen?" said Cuore, as we 
 entered the cabin. 
 
164 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " 1 thank you, sir ; but I never drink cham- 
 pagne, or any other wine," I replied. 
 
 " Nor I, either,*' added Larry, shrugging his 
 shoulders, as though he regarded his refusal as an 
 excellent joke. 
 
 " Americans are very singular people," laughed 
 the Italian. " You must drink wine in Italy. The 
 water will make you sick ; and besides, it is warm 
 and not pleasant to drink." 
 
 " I think I can stand it. I was brought up on 
 river water. At any rate, I shall be sick a while 
 before I drink any wine," I continued. 
 
 " But everybody drinks wine in Italy," persisted 
 Cuore. 
 
 " No ; I don't." 
 
 " Nor I," laughed my friend. 
 
 Larry and I went to our state-room, and very 
 likely the Italian drank his champagne before he 
 retired. 
 
 " Why should that fellow take so much pains to 
 please us?" asked Larry, as we were turning in. 
 
 " I don't know, unless it is out of the kindness 
 of his own heart," I replied. 
 
 " That's all in your eye, Phil. I never drank 
 much champagne, but I have been about enough 
 
THE STEUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 165 
 
 to notice that when some fellows have a big 
 *axe to grind, they use champagne for the grind- 
 stone." 
 
 " Possibly it may be so in this instance ; at any 
 rate, we will keep our eyes wide open. There is 
 one thing about it, Larry : we are not likely to be 
 blinded with champagne." 
 
 My friend's suggestion seemed to be worthy of 
 consideration, and while I was thinking about it I 
 dropped asleep, and did not wake till the wheels 
 of the steamer stopped in the port of Nice. We 
 went on shore, and taking a carriage, drove to the 
 Hotel de la MediterranSe, which is a very pleasant 
 situation, facing the sea. I had chosen this hotel, 
 and insisted upon going there, because my cous- 
 in's letter had informed me that my mother had 
 boarded there, though Cuore desired to stay at 
 the Hotel des Etrangers. Even the fact of being 
 at the place where my mother had spent the 
 winter made me feel nearer to her than I had 
 ever consciously been before. I had with me the 
 precious memorials by which my father had been 
 enabled to identify me, and I hoped soon to place 
 them before my other parent. 
 
 Mr. Collingsby, my grandfather, and Mr. Col- 
 
166 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 lingsby, my uncle, had persistently refused even 
 to consider my relationship to them, or to glance* 
 at the testimony I was able to produce. My 
 mother had been in Europe nearly three years, 
 with her brother, Joseph Collingsby, and his wife. 
 I had never seen this uncle, but I supposed he 
 must be as prudent, dignified, and unsentimental 
 as the rest of the family whom I had met. It was 
 even possible that he would not permit me to 
 state my case to my mother ; but I was deter- 
 mined not to fail in my undertaking. My first and 
 only business in Nice was to obtain tidings of my 
 mother, and as soon as I reached the hotel, I went 
 to work upon the case. I applied at once to that 
 important personage about European hotels, the 
 porter, who had an office at the entrance. He 
 spoke English, as well as three or four other 
 languages. 
 
 " Did Mr. Joseph Collingsby board at this hotel 
 during the winter ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; an American, you mean ? " replied 
 the porter. 
 
 " Yes ; who were with him ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Collingsby and another lady — what was 
 her name ? " 
 
THE STBUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 167 
 
 The man opened his register, and began to turn 
 the leaves. 
 
 " The party left about four weeks ago to go to 
 Milan with Signor Bertani and family. Here is 
 the lady's name — Mrs. Farringford." 
 
 The sight of the name sent my heart into my 
 throat, and it did not at that moment occur to me 
 that hostile armies lay between Nice and Milan. 
 
 " Is the lady in Milan now?" I inquired. 
 
 " I don't know, but I think so. Signor Bertani's 
 family spent the winter here, and they were very 
 intimate with the Collingsby party. Signor Ber- 
 tani is a very rich Italian gentleman, and has a fine 
 house in Milan. The Collingsbys were to stay a 
 month or two with them, and then all of them were 
 going to Switzerland ; for the two gentlemen 
 talked about the matter in my hearing. You wish 
 to see Mr. Collingsby ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Farringford, more particularly." 
 
 " You can't go to Milan now," added the porter. 
 
 " Perhaps I can." 
 
 " Signor Bertani made his fortune out of the 
 Austrians, and he is not in favor of United Italy," 
 continued the man, whose manner allowed no 
 doubt in regard to his politics. 
 
168 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " I am sorry he is on the wrong side," I replied. 
 " But can you tell me where to find him, in case I 
 get to Milan?" 
 
 "He is a banker, Corso di Bosinare, No. 21," 
 replied the porter, writing out the address in full. 
 " The less you say about Signor Bertani, the 
 better it will be for you, unless you are among 
 the Austrians." 
 
 I paid but little attention to this friendly warn- 
 ing, and afterwards wished I had heeded it. To 
 me the political question was a very plain one, and 
 all my sympathies were with France and Italy. I 
 believed in Cavour, the great Italian statesman, 
 and his policy. Lombardy was clearly a part of 
 Italy, and it s-eemed to me that Austria had no 
 right there. The people wished to be restored to 
 their natural political connections, and on the part 
 of the Italians it was " freedom's battle " which 
 was then in progress. 
 
 My business in Nice was accomplished ; but we 
 were obliged to remain in the city till the next 
 forenoon, when a steamer left for Genoa. 
 
 "I consider myself very fortunate, Larry," said 
 I, as we seated ourselves on deck to watch the 
 shores of Italy, after the steamer had started. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 169 
 
 " You always are, Phil ; but I don't see wherein 
 you are particularly so just now," replied he. 
 
 " I have ascertained just where my mother has 
 gone." 
 
 " Not much luck in that ; but I haven't much of 
 an idea that you will get to Milan this summer, 
 unless you join the French army, and go in with 
 the soldiers." 
 
 " I would even do that for the sake of getting 
 there." 
 
 " But when the allied army goes in, your mother 
 will not be there, if she goes with the Austrians." 
 
 " I don't believe my mother goes with the 
 Austrians ; but I intend to find her, wherever 
 she goes." 
 
 " You are a brick, Phil. Suppose we join the 
 French army. That will be the easiest way to get 
 into Milan this summer. I really want to take a 
 part in this business," said Larry. 
 
 " Of course I couldn't think of such a thing. It 
 would spoil all my plans." 
 
 " I want to get into something exciting." 
 
 " Perhaps we shall have that without going into 
 the army. By the way, have you an idea that 
 Cuore had any business in Nice ? " 
 
170 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " If he had, he must have neglected it, for I 
 don't think he was out of my sight five minutes at 
 any one time." 
 
 " I was thinking of that this morning. He sticks 
 to us like a leech." 
 
 " That's so ; but he said he was going to Nice 
 before you said anything about it. He did not 
 come here for our sakes." 
 
 " He seems to keep good company," I added, 
 pointing to a part of the deck where a group of 
 officers stood, the principal one of whom was talk- 
 ing with Cuore. 
 
 " He is not a bashful man, like myself," laughed 
 Larry. " He seems to be on good terms with that 
 general of brigade." 
 
 " Is that his rank ? " 
 
 " So Cuore told me." 
 
 The genera] was certainly a good-looking man, 
 and apparently a very affable one. I was sur- 
 prised to -see our Italian friend so intimate with 
 him ; but if he was in the employ of the govern- 
 ment, perhaps it was not very strange that he 
 should be on speaking terms with a general of 
 brigade in time of war. Larry and I turned in at 
 an early hour, and I was soon asleep. I waked 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 171 
 
 once in the night, and found that the little steamer 
 was pitching violently in a head sea. The weather 
 had been rather threatening when we retired, and 
 I expected both wind and rain during the night. 
 But I was accustomed to a stormy sea, and turning 
 over in my berth, I went to sleep again. Early in 
 the morning Larry waked me. 
 
 " It blows great guns, Phil," said he. 
 
 " Let it blow," I replied, still quite sleepy. 
 
 " I don't know that we can help ourselves," he 
 added ; " but I have been up half the night." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " I couldn't sleep. The steamer rolled so, my 
 brains were nearly knocked out. The French 
 brigadier was on deck ; and if ever a brave man 
 was frightened, he was." 
 
 " There is no occasion to be alarmed." 
 
 " I am not alarmed ; for I told you I was as 
 ready to live as die. I was speaking of the 
 brigadier. He was on the hurricane deck, hold- 
 ing on to the bob-stay." 
 
 "Was he, indeed? Then he has tremendous 
 long arms," I added, laughing at Larry's blunder. 
 
 " Well, the brig-stay, then." 
 
 " I never heard of that stay before. Probably 
 
172 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 it was the mizzen-stay ; for there is such a piece of 
 rigging within reach of the hurricane deck." 
 
 " The brigadier had to stay there, whatever the 
 stay was. The steamer dipped the water in over 
 her sides as she rolled, and monsieur expected to 
 go to the bottom. I had quite a chat with him, 
 for he speaks English first rate. He's going direct- 
 ly to the front." 
 
 " I'm willing ; but if you have been up half the 
 night, Larry, you had better turn in again, and 
 finish your nap. Your berth is the most comfort- 
 able place when it blows." 
 
 " I don't think so ; I want to see the fun, and 
 cultivate the acquaintance of the brigadier. I 
 thought you might want to know what's going on ; 
 so I waked you. Who knows but I may get a 
 chance on the brigadier's staff. I know all about 
 soldiering, for I was a high private in the Forty- 
 ninth for nearly a year. If I could only speak the 
 lingo, I would go in." 
 
 I don't know what else my friend said, for I 
 dropped asleep again. I was not much interested 
 in his military aspirations, and I concluded that 
 his want of fluency in the language would be a 
 sufficient bar to all his hopes. But Larry had 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 173 
 
 improved his French wonderfully, for he had 
 bought a phrase book in Paris, which he studied 
 during a large portion of the time, practising with 
 Cuore and myself. I slept till the steamer's 
 wheels stopped, and then went on deck. The 
 boat was two hours late, and when I joined Larry 
 she was inside of the two long moles which pro- 
 tect the harbor of Genoa. The port was crowded 
 with French and Italian transport steamers, which 
 had brought in troops and stores from Marseilles, 
 Toulon, and Leghorn, and our vessel was obliged 
 to anchor near the jaws of the harbor. The wind 
 was south-east, and still blowing a gale, which 
 made a heavy sea, even inside of the moles. But 
 rough as the sea was, the shore boats came off for 
 passengers ; for I believe there is not a single 
 Mediterranean port where vessels go up to a quay 
 or wharf. 
 
 Larry was talking with the general, who still 
 held on at the mizzen-stay, and his military coat 
 was soaked by the spray and rain. 
 
 " Here is Phil," said he, as soon as I appeared 
 on deck. " He knows all about it." 
 
 I walked up to him. 
 
 " General Eberle, this is my friend, Mr. Farring- 
 ford," continued Larry. 
 
174 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 The general gave me his hand, and greeted me 
 warmly, though he did not release his hold of the 
 stay with his left hand, and I noticed that he kept 
 one eye on the surging waves. 
 
 " Can we go to ze shore in ze little boat?" he 
 asked, anxiously, as he glanced at the small craft, 
 whose owners were vociferously offering their 
 services. " Voire ami a dit que vous ites marin." 
 
 " Qui, monsieur ; you can land very well," I 
 replied. 
 
 " I have ve»ry much fear of ze watair." 
 
 " There is not much danger, sir, if the boats are 
 well managed." 
 
 I said what I could to assure the general that a 
 boat could live in the sea around us, but I was 
 willing to admit that it was not without peril. I 
 presumed that the boatmen were skilful in their 
 business. He was very anxious to leave the 
 steamer, and we engaged two boats to land us. 
 They were small craft, and were manned by father 
 and son, the latter of whom was a boy of sixteen. 
 General Eberle" and another officer went with the 
 old man, while Larry and I, with our baggage, 
 took passage with the boy. Cuore and an officer 
 engaged a third boat. We embarked safely, and 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 175 
 
 in another moment we were bobbing up and down 
 like feathers on the angry waves. A combing 
 wave broke over the stern of the old man's boat, 
 which startled the general, and he did the stupid- 
 est thing a man could possibly do under such cir- 
 cumstances, for he sprang to his feet. I heard the 
 boatman shout, and then I saw the brigadier top- 
 ple over into the water. He disappeared from my 
 sight for a moment, and then I discovered him 
 struggling on the top of a huge wave. 
 
 " Give way, man ! " I shouted to our boatman ; 
 but he appeared to be paralyzed by the catas- 
 trophe, and did not understand English. 
 
 Finding he could do nothing, I sprang from the 
 bow of the boat where I was seated, and grasped 
 the oars. Driving the boy forward, I pulled the 
 boat up to the unfortunate general. But just at 
 that moment his head bobbed under. I brought 
 the little -craft up head to the sea, and then told 
 the boy, in French, to take the oars again. Per- 
 haps he understood my gestures better than my 
 words ; at any rate, he obeyed me, and I returned 
 to the bow. 
 
 . " Keep still, Larry ! Don't move ! " I shouted 
 to my friend, whose movements indicated that he 
 
176 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 intended to jump overboard. " I will get him in a 
 minute." 
 
 The general rose again, and I fastened the boat- 
 hook into his military coat, and hauled him up to 
 the bow. By this time the old man had come to 
 the rescue, and with his aid the unfortunate man 
 was hauled into his boat, which was nearly 
 swamped in the act. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 177 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY BECOME SOLDIERS, AND 
 SPEND THEIR FIRST NIGHT IN BIVOUAC. 
 
 IT seems almost incredible that a man so brave 
 as General Eberle" proved himself to be in the 
 fiery onslaught of battle should be timid under any 
 circumstances. I have heard of a sea captain who 
 never knew what fear was in a gale, on the deck 
 of his own ship, but who was absolutely terrified 
 in a small sail-boat, when the wind was simply 
 fresh. The general was certainly frightened, and 
 had practically thrown himself overboard ; but the 
 old Italian had him safe in the bottom of his boat 
 now ; and I saw him gesticulating violently to his 
 distinguished passenger, in order to keep him 
 quiet in his place. 
 
 Neither the old man nor the young man was 
 willing to come about in that heavy sea; for we 
 were now in the most exposed position. Taking a 
 12 
 
178 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 sharp angle with the direction of the waves, they 
 brought their boats under the lee of the steamer, 
 and there came about. Keeping well in towards 
 the shore, where the water was partially sheltered 
 by the mole, they landed at the custom-house quay. 
 General Eberle went on shore first, and as soon as 
 Larry and I joined him, he rushed towards me, 
 threw himself upon me, and hugged me as though 
 I had been his lost baby. I was not a little star- 
 tled at the demonstrative Frenchman's method 
 of testifying his gratitude. 
 
 " You have saved my life ! " exclaimed he, first 
 in French and then in English. 
 
 " That's so," said Larry. 
 
 " You know ze boat ; you know ze sea, Monsieur 
 Farringford. You have saved my life ! " repeated 
 the general, hugging me again. 
 
 I submitted, with the best grace I could, to this 
 loving treatment ; but I protested that I had done 
 nothing to deserve such an expression of emotion. 
 
 " You have saved my life. You have saved to 
 France and Italy a general of brigade. I shall 
 fight well with ze life you have given to me." 
 
 " I have no doubt you will." 
 
 " I have no fear on ze battle-ground ; but I have 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 179 
 
 very much fear in ze boat," added the general, 
 apologetically. "Now we will go to ze Hotel 
 Feder, if you please." 
 
 " I have some baggage." 
 
 But my trunk passed the officers without open- 
 
 * 
 
 ing, and in a few moments we reached the hotel. 
 The general told me he had just come from Al- 
 giers, and. had been assigned to a command in the 
 army in Italy. 
 
 " I wish to go to Milan," said I, after my new 
 friend had restated his obligations to me. 
 
 " It is not possible now ; but the army will be in 
 Milan in one or two weeks. You shall go with 
 the army. I will take care of you myself." 
 
 " Thank you ; and 1 will accept your offer," I re- 
 plied, promptly. 
 
 He left me to change his wet clothes for dry 
 ones. He had hardly left the room before Cuore 
 came to me, though he had not been out of my 
 sight since we landed at the custom-house. 
 
 " Now we shall go to Milan," said the Italian, 
 rubbing his hands, as if delighted with the pros- 
 pect. 
 
 " General Eberle says it is quite impossible," I 
 answered. 
 
180 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " To him, yes ; to me, no," added the Italian. 
 
 " I have accepted his kind invitation to go there 
 with the arm} r , which will be in Milan within a 
 week or two." 
 
 " You have accepted his invitation ! " exclaimed 
 Cuore, with a sudden start of astonishment. 
 
 " I have." 
 
 " What for have you done this ? " he demanded, 
 with an ugly look, such as I had not before seen on 
 his face. 
 
 I thought he manifested more feeling about the 
 matter than the occasion required ; and I could 
 not but ask myself again why he had taken so 
 much pains to please us. 
 
 "Because I think the army will take me to Milan," 
 I replied. 
 
 " But the army may never get to Milan," pro- 
 tested Cuore, who had never hinted at such a pos- 
 sibility before, and who had all along professed to 
 believe that the allies would march straight across 
 the plains of Lombardy, as soon as they were ready. 
 
 " Don't you expect the Austrians will be beaten 
 in this campaign ? " I asked, quietly. 
 
 " Nothing is sure, you know. The Austrians 
 have many soldiers and good generals." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 181 
 
 " You seem to have changed your tone, Signor 
 Cuore." 
 
 " No ; but it will be a long time before the army 
 enters Milan." 
 
 " Well, I have agreed to go with the general." 
 
 " And your friend ? " 
 
 " Of course we shall keep together." 
 
 " But I have engaged to take you to Milan." 
 
 "Have you? We will release you from the ob- 
 ligation, then. But I am not aware of the exist- 
 ence of any- agreement on the subject. As you 
 were going to Nice, and then to Milan, and we 
 were going to the same places, we have come to- 
 gether." 
 
 "But I have pledged myself to take you to 
 Milan," replied he, warmly. 
 
 " I did not know it before." 
 
 " And if you go with me, you shall be in Milan 
 in three days, at the most," said he, in a kind of 
 imploring tone, as though it was a matter of some 
 consequence that we should go with him. 
 
 " The allied army and the Austrian army lie be- 
 tween us and' Milan. Will you tell me how you 
 intend to pass both lines ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Hist ! Not so loud. You must not speak of 
 these things." 
 
182 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " We are alone." 
 
 " The Austrians have spies everywhere," whis- 
 pered Cuore. 
 
 It was afterwards shown that the Austrians 
 were sadly deficient in this important branch of 
 the military service. 
 
 " I shall not start on an expedition through the 
 lines of either army without knowing anything 
 about the means of passing through." 
 
 " I shall be your guide and friend." 
 
 " I have no desire to be shot with you as a spy, 
 if you are." 
 
 "We shall not be shot if you trust to me. I 
 know every rod of ground from Genoa to Milan ; 
 and I have the passes," added Cuore, in a whisper. 
 
 " Come, Phil, we are off in an hour," said Larry, 
 joining me in the dining-room, where I was wait- 
 ing for breakfast. " Hurry up the grub ; the gen- 
 eral is about ready." 
 
 " I have helped you through so far ; I have got 
 the best cabins in the steamers for you ; I have 
 done all I could for you." 
 
 " You have been very kind, and we are greatly 
 obliged to you for your favors." 
 
 " Precisely so," added Larry. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 183 
 
 " And now you will leave me ? " 
 
 " That depends upon which way you are going. 
 If you are going with us, we don't leave you, any 
 more than a man parts with his head. That's so, 
 'pon my soul ! " said my friend, lightly. 
 
 The entrance of the general terminated the con- 
 versation, and we sat down to breakfast. I pointed 
 to a chair for Cuore ; but to my surprise, he 
 begged to be excused, and took his meal alone, in 
 another part of the room. In explanation of his 
 conduct, I learned, afterwards, that he did not con- 
 sider it proper for him to sit at table with a gen- 
 eral of brigade. After breakfast we departed in a 
 military train, and in a few hours arrived at 
 Alessandria, which was a strongly fortified city, 
 the citadel being quite a town of itself. The 
 place was crowded with French soldiers, for it 
 was the left of the line on the Po, by which the 
 emperor intended at first to invade Lombardy. 
 He had now just changed his plan, though I knew 
 nothing of it at the time, and was moving his army 
 up towards the line of the Ticino. Troops were 
 constantly arriving and departing ; but the gen- 
 eral soon ascertained that his brigade was in the 
 vicinity of Vercelli. 
 
184 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OB 
 
 " The whole plan is changed/' said Cuore, in a 
 solemn and mysterious manner. " I shall go to 
 the Lago Maggiore, and into Milan from the north. 
 I intended to go by Pavia." 
 
 " What do you mean by the plan being 
 changed ? " I asked. 
 
 " Don't you see that all the troops are moving 
 towards the north ? " 
 
 " I haven't the least idea which way they are 
 moving." 
 
 " Pardon ; the train is ready," said General 
 Eberle, politely interruping the conversation. 
 
 We took our places with the general in the 
 troop train ; but Cuore did not enter the compart- 
 ment with us, though we knew he was not far 
 away. 
 
 i( General, do you know Signor Cuore ? " I asked, 
 as the train moved off. 
 
 " No," replied he, shrugging his shoulders in 
 the true French style. 
 
 " I saw you talking with him on board of the 
 steamer." 
 
 " I have never seen ze man till then. No ; he is 
 in ze government service, he say," added the gen- 
 eral, laughing, and with his significant shrug im- 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 185 
 
 plied that more was to be understood than was 
 expressed. " He only tell me ze news." 
 
 In two hours more the train stopped in the 
 fields. The ground, as far as we could see, was 
 covered with the camps of the French and Sardin- 
 ian troops. Our military friend told us we were 
 near the front. We walked about a mile, to the 
 headquarters of the general of division, where the 
 brigadier reported himself. An aid then con- 
 ducted us to a farm-house, at least two miles dis- 
 tant, and the general took possession of his head- 
 quarters, relieving the officer in command. I 
 watched all the formalities with interest, after the 
 brigade was drawn up. Cuore was close at my 
 side, but Larry remained in the farm-house for a* 
 short time. When I was beginning to wonder 
 what had become of him, General Eberle and his 
 staff rode by me. Of the latter there were only 
 three or four ; but, to my utter astonishment, not 
 to say dismay, I recognized Larry as one of 
 them ! He wore an undress uniform, was well 
 mounted, and looked as much like a Frenchman as 
 any of them. As he passed me he smiled, and 
 gave me the military salute. I concluded that 
 this was the result of the long conversations with 
 the general. 
 
186 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OE 
 
 " He will not go to Milan ! " exclaimed Cuore, 
 who still clung to me like a brother. 
 
 " Probably he intends to go with the army," I 
 replied. 
 
 " This is very bad ; he will not go to Milan 
 with us," muttered the Italian, evidently more 
 disgusted at Larry's conduct than I was. 
 
 " You and I can go alone, then," I suggested. 
 
 " You will not leave your friend." 
 
 " No ; but he appears to be leaving me." 
 
 I felt like a cat in a strange garret after the 
 discovery I had made. The Italian for a time 
 was .my only companion, and he was even more 
 discontented than I was. When the parade was 
 dismissed, I went back to the farm-house, which 
 had a picture of the Virgin and three saints 
 painted over the front door. The stable was con- 
 nected with the house, and was filled with officers' 
 horses. It was two hours before the general and 
 Larry came in to dinner. 
 
 I must say that my friend made a fine-looking 
 officer, and did not stumble over the sword that 
 dangled at his side. . 
 
 " What in the world have you been doing, Lar- 
 ry ? " I exclaimed, as soon as I had a chance to 
 speak to him. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 187 
 
 " I've been going in for United Italy," laughed 
 he. " It was quite impossible for me to keep my 
 fingers out of this pie." 
 
 " But what is your position ? " I asked, curiously. 
 
 "Volunteer aid-de-camp, without pay. Didn't 
 you hear the adjutant read my appointment on 
 parade ? " 
 
 " No, I didn't notice it. You are a pretty aid- 
 de-camp ! How can you deliver the general's or- 
 ders, when you don't understand the language, and 
 no Frenchman could comprehend you, if you did ? " 
 
 " The general speaks English, and he will write 
 his orders," laughed Larry. " Come, Phil, there's 
 another place, just like mine, for you." 
 
 " For me ! I don't know the first thing about 
 military." 
 
 " Not necessary to know anything. You can't 
 go' to Milan with the army in a civilian's dress." 
 
 " I will think of it," I replied, tempted by this 
 consideration. 
 
 I could not understand how it was possible to 
 appoint an utterly incompetent person even as a 
 volunteer aid-de-camp ; but the general alone was 
 responsible for this ; and I realized that he only 
 desired to do me a favor, and evidently expected 
 
188 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 nothing of me. To my surprise, after the disgust 
 he had manifested at Larry's conduct, Cuore ad- 
 vised, and even pleaded, that I should accept the 
 offer. 
 
 " You will have nothing to do, either of you, ex- 
 cept to look on. The general gives you the posi- 
 tion for your own protection and comfort, because 
 you saved his life in the Bay of Genoa," said he. 
 " You can go and come as you please ; and very 
 likely your position will enable you to get into 
 Milan sooner than without it." 
 
 Though I was rather inclined to distrust my 
 Italian friend, I thought he was right, and I ac- 
 cepted the offer. I promptly purchased a uniform, 
 as Larry had done, of a sutler. It was a second- 
 hand affair, and a hole in the breast of the coat 
 suggested the fate of its former owner ; but it had 
 been thoroughly renovated, and I was entirely sat- 
 isfied with it. The sutler declared that the hole 
 in the breast of the coat made it worth ten francs 
 more, for the owner could point to it as an evidence 
 of his courage ; but, of course, any one could shoot 
 a hole through his coat, and thus make himself a 
 hero. 
 
 I had left my trunk in Genoa, transferring a few 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 189 
 
 articles, including the relics of my childhood, with 
 which I never parted, to a small bag. I made a 
 bundle of my travelling suit, and strapped it to the 
 bag, for I did not think I should long remain a 
 soldier, I was not a little astonished when I found 
 myself transformed into a military man ; and I sur- 
 veyed myself all over to observe the effect. I was 
 decidedly in favor of the cause which I had thus 
 lightly espoused, and if its success had depended 
 upon my arm, or even my life, I would not have 
 been backward. 
 
 My position did not seem real to me, and I felt 
 like a spectator rather than an actor in the excit- 
 ing events which were transpiring around me. I 
 did not feel called upon to expose myself to the 
 perils of battle, and I was too ignorant of the mili- 
 tary art to be of any service in the brigade. We 
 remained at this camp two days, during which 
 Larry was busy every moment of the time, hardly 
 allowing himself the needed hours of rest. On the 
 day after our arrival he came to me with a couple 
 of muskets in his hands, and insisted upon my tak- 
 ing one of them. He then put me through a por- 
 tion of the manual, using the French words of 
 command. When I expressed my surprise, he told 
 
190 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 me that lie had been taking lessons of an orderly ' 
 sergeant, on duty at headquarters. I soon learned 
 to handle a musket, and, by observing the drills 
 and parades, obtained a knowledge of the French 
 technical terms. Of course my stock of military 
 science was very slight indeed, though I could not 
 help adding to it almost every moment. 
 
 On the third day after our arrival all the troops 
 appeared to be in motion, and our brigade was soon 
 on the march. Larry had purchased a horse for 
 his own use, though I declined to waste my money 
 in following his example ; but a steed was furnished 
 for me. We moved forward in a north-easterly di- 
 rection, over fields and vineyards, till nine o'clock 
 in the evening, and then halted on the banks of a 
 river. Tents and baggage had been left behind, 
 and we spent the night in bivouac on the border 
 of the stream. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 191 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY MOVE FORWARD WITH 
 THE ARMY, AND DECIDE TO VISIT MILAN. 
 
 ,Y the kindness of General Eberle, Larry and 
 I were plentifully supplied with blankets, 
 and I slept very well. It was not the first time I 
 had passed the night in the open air, for 1 had 
 often camped under a tree in the wilds of the Up- 
 per Missouri, with my old hunter friend. The 
 army had been moving for two days, but I could 
 not form the least idea of what was going on. 
 Though everything was in perfect order, and 
 every division and brigade was doing precisely 
 what it had been directed to do, the whole move- 
 ment appeared to me to be a mass of confusion. 
 For two days more we moved about from place to 
 place, apparently without object or aim, until we 
 again bivouacked on the bank of the stream, which 
 was the River Sesia. I heard that the King of 
 Sardinia was on one side of us, and the Emperor 
 
192 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 of France on the other ; but I did not see either 
 of them that day. 
 
 On the following morning, for the first time, I 
 heard the rattle of musketry and the roar of can- 
 non, on the other side of the river. This was the 
 battle of Palestro. The King of Sardinia had 
 crossed -the river the day before, and the Aus- 
 trians were now attacking him in the position he 
 had taken. The fight was long and severe, but 
 the Austrians were handsomely repulsed on the 
 front, though they succeeded in flanking the Ital- 
 ians on the right, and the result for a time looked 
 very doubtful. This part of the conflict we could 
 see from our position, and our men were anxious 
 to take part in it. Larry was intensely excited, 
 and declared that the Austrians had won the day. 
 The general thought not, for the French could 
 throw in twenty thousand men, if needed, to turn 
 the tide. We saw the Austrians post their bat- 
 teries on a rising ground, which some accounts of 
 the battle describe as a hill, though there is no 
 such thing in this part of Lombardy. At the foot 
 of the slope was a canal, which conveyed the 
 waters of the Sesia to a mill. Across this canal 
 rushed the Third French Zouaves, some of them 
 
THE STEUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 193 
 
 on the narrow plank bridge, and others through 
 the muddy waters. They were dashing fellows, 
 and on they went up the slope, under a sharp fire 
 of artillery and musketry. I saw many of the 
 brave fellows drop on the way; but almost in the 
 twinkling of an eye they had captured the Aus- 
 trian position, taking the guns and many prisoners, 
 and driving hundreds of the enemy into the canal. 
 
 The field was won, and a score of ringing 
 cheers, short and sharp, rent the air. The Aus- 
 trians who were in condition to do so fled. In the 
 evening they rallied, and made an attempt to re- 
 take the place, but were completely repulsed. 
 
 " What do you think of that, Phil ? " said Larry, 
 after the Zouave charge. 
 
 " I think it was well done." 
 
 " So do I ; but I don't like to stand here looking 
 on," he added, impatiently. 
 
 " This is the safest position." 
 
 " Humph ! That isn't what I bargained for. I 
 want to hear the bullets whistle." 
 
 " I am perfectly satisfied to be at a safe dis- 
 tance. Bullets that whistle have an ugly habit of 
 boring through one's bones and meat, and making 
 the blood run." 
 13 
 
194 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " That is what makes it exciting business. If 
 there were no danger, there would be no fun." 
 
 " I don't desire that sort of fun." 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " Do you suppose Blanche Fennimore has any 
 particular regard for you, Larry ? " 
 
 " I happen to know that she has," replied he, 
 promptly. 
 
 " If she knew that you were trying to throw 
 away your life in a struggle of this kind, do you 
 think she would be comforted by the knowl- 
 edge ? " 
 
 " ' None but the brave deserve the fair.' She 
 will think ten times as much of me if I behave like 
 a man." 
 
 " But you have no particular interest in this 
 quarrel. You go into it as a mere adventurer, 
 because you like excitement." 
 
 " I have a particular interest in it. I always go 
 in for the bottom dog, and I am willing to go in 
 for any people that are oppressed by their rulers. 
 Where would our country — or your country, I 
 suppose I must call it now — have been, if the 
 French hadn't stepped in to help you out ? " 
 
 " I don't know ; but perhaps we should have 
 come out all right." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 195 
 
 " Perhaps you would — only you wouldn't." 
 
 " The French were fighting their own battle 
 while they were fighting ours. They took our 
 part because they hated England, rather than 
 because they loved us, though this fact does not 
 relieve us of the debt of gratitude we owe to 
 France. If you behave as well as you talk, Larry, 
 I am afraid you will be shot." 
 
 " I will bet you a supper for the crowd that I 
 don't get shot." 
 
 " Bet ! That would be trifling with the mercy 
 of God." 
 
 " I dare say you are right, Phil. You ought to 
 have been a parson." 
 
 " Don't bet on anything, Larry ; least of all, on a 
 matter so serious as the chances of life ; for we 
 are always in the hands of our Father." 
 
 " But the chances of being shot are really less 
 than you think, Phil." 
 
 " There are chances enough, at least." 
 
 After supper, we crossed the river, and bi- 
 vouacked on the other side. The next morning 
 we marched to Novara, and encamped outside of 
 the walls. It was evident to all that we were on 
 the eve of a great battle, for Milan was less than 
 
196 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 thirty miles distant, and the Austrians would not 
 allow the capital of Lombardy to be occupied by 
 the allies without a desperate attempt to save it. 
 Our general thought we were near the centre of 
 the line, and that in less than three days we 
 should see some very heavy fighting. I was not 
 particularly pleased with the prospect, especially 
 as I found that my military friend was somewhat 
 inclined to use me. On parade, and elsewhere, I 
 carried orders, and it seemed to me that I Avas an 
 errand-boy on a large scale. I did not object to 
 being an aid-de-camp in the reserve, if this portion 
 of the force was not called into action. 
 
 " There will be lively times here soon, Phil," 
 said Larry, as we met at sunset. 
 
 " I'm not anxious to see any such times as you 
 suggest," I replied. " In fact, I'm rather sorry 
 that I put on this uniform." 
 
 " Come, Phil, don't back down." 
 
 " I haven't backed down ; but I don't want to 
 be shot, or to be thrown into an Austrian prison." 
 
 " Are you afraid ? " 
 
 "I am — a downright coward in this business; 
 for I feel that it does not particularly concern me." 
 
 " You are honest, Phil ; but I don't believe you 
 are a coward." 
 
THE STEUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 197 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " Impossible ! " said a voice behind us, which we 
 identified as that of Cuore. 
 
 We had not seen him before for three days, and 
 I supposed he was on his mission within the 
 Austrian lines. 
 
 " I thought you were on the other side of the 
 Ticino," I suggested. 
 
 " I have been ; but I have come back. I have 
 been in Milan," replied the Italian. 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " I left Milan last night." 
 
 " Last night ! " I exclaimed, astonished at the 
 facility with which he seemed to pass through the 
 hostile lines. " How could you have come through 
 so soon?" 
 
 " The trains on the railroad run down as far as 
 Magenta, to bring supplies for the troops ; from 
 there I came in a baggage wagon nearly to the 
 Ticino River. I am going back again to-night." 
 
 " To Milan ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Cuore was very fluent in his speech, and did 
 not seem to be at all fatigued by his long journey 
 and the excitement of passing through the pickets 
 
198 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 of both armies. He seemed to me to be a wonder- 
 ful fellow, and I could form some idea of the 
 importance of the man to the French arms, for 
 doubtless he had informed the generals of the 
 precise location and numbers of the Austrians. I 
 was strongly impressed by his skill and powers of 
 endurance, and I gazed at him with wonder and 
 astonishment. 
 
 " I passed through the Corso di Bosinare, while 
 I was in Milan," he added, as I was still regarding 
 him. 
 
 "What's that?" I asked. 
 
 " Don't you remember ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Signor Bertani," he continued, suggestively. 
 
 " Ah, did you, indeed ? It was very kind of 
 you to think of me, when you had so much busi- 
 ness on your hands," I replied, recalling the name 
 as the friend of my mother, and of the Collingsbys, 
 to whom he alluded. 
 
 " I never forget or neglect a friend." 
 ."Did you obtain any information?" I asked, 
 deeply interested in the matter. 
 
 " I did ; I spoke with Signor Bertani himself." 
 
 " Are his American friends still with him ? " 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 199 
 
 " They are, and are likely to remain with him ; 
 for, you see, it is quite impossible to get into 
 Switzerland, by any direct route, for Garibaldi and 
 the Chasseurs d'Alpes hold the lakes, and have pos- 
 session of all the steamers. Besides, the Austrians 
 in Milan do not expect to lose the city." 
 
 " But suppose the city should be captured ; 
 would Signor Bertani leave ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Certainly he would ; the Italians would hang 
 him if they caught him." 
 
 " Would his family depart ? " 
 
 " I think not. If Milan is captured, the Austrians 
 will want all the railway carriages for their own 
 use, and would not give them up for women and 
 children, who would be perfectly safe in the city. 
 But you should go to Milan before the army." 
 
 " Why so ? " 
 
 " You will be sure to find your mother now ; but 
 if you wait two or three days the Austrians may 
 fortify the city. Then the French will bombard it, 
 and the women and children must all leave." 
 
 " Do you think 1 could pass through the lines ? " 
 I asked, somewhat excited by such a prospect. 
 
 " You can pass safely through with me. I will 
 promise that both of you shall be in Milan before 
 six o'clock to-morrow morning." 
 
200 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " I cannot go," interposed Larry. 
 
 " Not go with your friend ? " said Cuore. 
 
 " No ; I am going to see that big battle, and have 
 a finger in the pie, too. I shall not leave the 
 army," added Larry, very decidedly. 
 
 " I thought you would keep together," continued 
 the Italian, who seemed to be strangely vexed and 
 disturbed at the decision of my friend. 
 
 " Never mind me, Phil. Go ahead with him, 
 and I shall see you when we get to Milan," said 
 Larry. 
 
 " But I can take the two better than one," an- 
 swered Cuore. 
 
 " How's that ? " I inquired. 
 
 " I have a pass for three persons," said he, taking 
 a paper from his pocket, which he showed to me. 
 
 It was written in German, and he knew that I 
 was entirely ignorant of that language. He per- 
 mitted me to see it, but not to take it from his 
 hands. 
 
 " Let me see it," added Larry. " I will take it 
 to our orderly. He is a Swiss, and speaks German 
 like a Dutchman. Let me take it." 
 
 " No — pardon ; I must not let my pass go out of 
 my own hands," replied Cuore, folding up the paper 
 
THE STEUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 201 
 
 and returning it to his pocket. " I must be very 
 prudent. I am in the employ of the Austrians as 
 well as the French ; but I give them only such in- 
 formation as will be useful to United Italy." 
 
 Cuore chuckled, and looked very cunning. It 
 seemed very strange to me that a pass which would 
 answer for three persons would not do for two ; 
 and I expressed myself to this effect. 
 
 " Ah, you see I have promised to bring over to 
 the Austrian general two men who can tell better 
 than I where the French are posted. You can tell 
 him ; but, of course, you will not give him any cor- 
 rect information. I have obtained this pass for 
 you, and both must go, or neither." 
 " I can't go, Phil," said Larry. 
 " You may return before the great battle takes 
 place," suggested Cuore. " There may be no fight 
 for a week." 
 
 " And there may be one to-morrow." 
 " No, not possible. The allies are not in position 
 to fight a battle yet." 
 
 " No one can know when it will come off. I dare 
 say his majesty the Emperor of France has laid his 
 plans well, for he is a very clever fellow ; but even 
 he cannot tell when the battle will be fought. He 
 
202 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 may intend to set the ball rolling in three days, or 
 a week ; but, I take it, the Austrians may have a 
 finger in the pie, as well as the emperor and my- 
 self, and if they take a notion to fight a battle to- 
 night even, we can't help ourselves. The emperor 
 and I are not going to keep still, and let them whip 
 us ; so you see I can't go. It is morally, socially, 
 and politically impossible," continued Larry. 
 
 " I can go without you," I replied. 
 
 " Certainly you can, Phil." 
 
 " If I have one, I must have two," persisted 
 Cuore. 
 
 " Can't you tell the Austrian general that one of 
 your men had a corn on his little toe, and couldn't 
 come ? " 
 
 " No," replied the Italian, shaking his head vio- 
 lently ; and it was plain that he did not intend to 
 visit Milan without my friend. 
 
 " Here's the general," said Larry. " "We'll lay 
 the matter before him." 
 
 My friend stated the case to General Eberle, who 
 at once declared that no battle was possible within 
 twenty-four hours, and that the emperor would 
 choose his own time, in spite of the Austrians. 
 
 " But this is very perilous business," he added. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 203 
 
 " Then I would like to engage in it," said my 
 obstinate friend. 
 
 " I can make it very safe," interposed Cuore, 
 with the utmost deference. 
 
 The general turned to the Italian, and began to 
 question him rather sharply in regard to his busi- 
 ness in the camp. Cuore replied very promptly, 
 and substantially in accordance with what he had 
 said to us. 
 
 " Show the Austrian pass, signore," added 
 Larry. 
 
 " No/' interposed the general, walking away. 
 " If he were not your friend, gentlemen, I would 
 order ze arrest of ze man." 
 
 " But he is in the employ of the French," I 
 replied. 
 
 " I don't know," answered the general, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders. 
 
 " He brought information to General Canrobert, 
 this morning, from Milan." 
 
 " I don't know ; I can't say," added the general. 
 
 He declared that a spy could be known only to 
 his immediate employers. He knew nothing about 
 the man. If he saw an Austrian pass, he should 
 be obliged to arrest him ; therefore he would not 
 
204 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 see it. He seemed to have no opinion whatever 
 in regard to Cuore, and left us free to do as we 
 deemed advisable. I had some suspicions in re- 
 gard to the Italian ; but I could not trace them to 
 any reasonable foundation. I discussed the matter 
 for half an hour with Larry, and then we decided 
 to visit Milan. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 205 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY FLOAT DOWN THE CANAL, 
 AND ARE DISTURBED BY FRENCH PICKET GUARDS. 
 
 I HAD a certain confidence in Cuore, which led 
 me to believe that he was able to do what he 
 promised, though I was not willing to give myself 
 blindly into his charge. The general knew noth- 
 ing about him, and said nothing to weaken my 
 confidence. I could not see why he should be so 
 anxious to have Larry go to Milan, when my 
 friend had no business there, as I had. We walked 
 back to the place where we had left the Italian, 
 and told him we were ready to depart. Of course 
 anything like baggage was out of the question ; 
 but I had put the locket and bracelets of my child- 
 hood into a pocket inside of my vest, for I had not 
 dared to leave these valuables in my bag at the 
 camp. The shawl and the dress were in my 
 trunk at Genoa. 
 
206 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " We are rather too early yet," said Cuore, as 
 he glanced around him. 
 
 " Why too early ? " I inquired. 
 
 " The less time we have to spare, the fewer 
 questions we shall have to answer. I have a 
 couple of letters I wish to post," added the Ital- 
 ian, thrusting his hands into his pockets. " I must 
 send them to Novara." 
 
 " You can leave them at the camp. An orderly 
 goes up to the town with the mail every day," 
 said Larry. " Give them to me, and I will see 
 that they are sent." 
 
 " I will go to the headquarters," replied Cuore, 
 still fumbling in his pockets for the letters. " I 
 must give the orderly the money to pay the 
 postage." 
 
 We went to the house in which the brigade 
 headquarters were located. Cuore gave his let- 
 ters to the orderly, who put them in a leather bag 
 which hung on the wall. 
 
 u Now we are ready to go," said Cuore. " We 
 have a long walk before us, and I hope you are 
 fresh and strong." 
 
 " I can walk all night," I replied. 
 
 " So can I ; but hurry up your cakes, signore," 
 added Larry. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER." 207 
 
 " My cakes ? " repeated the Italian. " I have 
 been to supper." 
 
 " So have I ; and therefore let us keep moving. 
 We go as though we were attending the funeral 
 of a general of division." 
 
 " We must not hurry. We shall pass the French 
 lines about five kilometres from here, and I do not 
 wish to go through till about dark." 
 
 "Why not? If you have a pass for the crowd, 
 what difference does it make ? " replied Larry, im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " It will make much delay. I have a pass signed 
 by General Canrobert; but — " 
 
 " Let me see it," interposed Larry. 
 
 " Not here ; by and by, when we halt for a time, 
 you shall see it. But I wish to go through the 
 French line without showing the pass." 
 
 " Why so ? Do you want to be shot ? " 
 
 " No, no ; of course I don't want to be shot. 
 When it is dark I can get through with less delay. 
 If I show the pass, the soldiers will send for the 
 sergeant, the sergeant for the sous-lieutenant, he 
 for the captain, the captain for the general of brig- 
 ade, and the general of brigade for the general of 
 division ; then it must go to the field marshal, and 
 
208 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 from him to the emperor ; and we shall not get 
 through till to-morrow night." 
 
 " Then you are going to run through." 
 
 " Precisely so ; but if any one stops us, I have 
 the pass for three persons." 
 
 " If any one can go through the pickets as 
 easily as you suggest, they don't amount to 
 much," said Larry. 
 
 "You don't understand me." 
 
 "That's so; I don't." 
 
 " I know the country, and I have a grand plan 
 to do this business right. You have seen some 
 canals in this part of Italy." 
 
 " Plenty of them," answered Larry. 
 
 " You've seen that they have trees on each side." 
 
 " Yes ; I haven't been over a ditch that did not 
 have a row of trees or bushes on both sides." 
 
 " I shall bring you to a canal that runs into the 
 river," continued Cuore. 
 
 "What river?" I asked. 
 
 " The Ticino, which flows into the Po near 
 Pavia. This river is the picket line for the Aus- 
 trians on one side, and the allies on the other; but 
 neither line goes very near the river. On the 
 canal, one kilometre from the stream, I have a boat, 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 209 
 
 in which I came over this morning — a petit ba- 
 teau, in which we can float down to the river, 
 in the shade of the trees, without being seen." 
 
 " Of course the pickets will hear the sound of 
 the oars or paddle," suggested Larry. 
 
 " We shall use no oars." 
 
 " But the water in the canal must run from the 
 river." 
 
 " No, no ; it runs the other way." 
 
 " That's a humbug," protested Larry. 
 
 " What do you call humbug? " 
 
 " What's the canal for, if it don't run from the 
 river ? " 
 
 " It is to wet the land, to — what you call it ? — 
 to irritate — no ; to — " 
 
 " Irrigate," I suggested. 
 
 " Ah, to irrigate the land ! You are right. The 
 canal flows from the river in one place, farther up, 
 and comes back into the river in another place, 
 below the first. From the big canal flow a great 
 many small ones through the land, so that the wa- 
 ter can be spread all over the fields." 
 
 " Precisely so ; I understand it, Larry." 
 
 " So do I ; and we will grant that the water in 
 this part of the canal runs into the river." 
 14 
 
210 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OB 
 
 " I have told you all the way then," resumed 
 Cuore. " The flow of the water will take the little 
 boat into the river. We cross over, and go into 
 a canal on the other side." 
 
 " And I suppose that canal, to suit our conven- 
 ience, runs from the river," laughed my friend. 
 
 " You are right," replied Cuore. " Its waters 
 will carry us to a safe place. Then we walk up 
 to Magenta, where there is very often a train for 
 Milan." 
 
 " No doubt of it ; everything seems to have been 
 arranged especially for our convenience." 
 
 " Ah, you see, I know the country ! That is the 
 reason the French generals sent me on a mission 
 for them," added the Italian, with much self-com- 
 placency. 
 
 " Do you expect to float down this canal with- 
 out being noticed by the sentinels? " I inquired. 
 
 "I do ; but what matter if we are noticed ? 
 You wear the uniform of French officers. If we 
 are stopped I have only to show the pass of Gen- 
 eral Canrobert." 
 
 I had. become so accustomed to the military sa- 
 lute, greeting us at almost every step of our walk, 
 which, of course, Larry and I returned, that I had 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 211 
 
 almost forgotten my existence as a civilian. We 
 passed from one camp to another without diffi- 
 culty, for our uniform was all the pass we re- 
 quired. It did not occur to me then that we were 
 conducting Cuore, instead of the reverse, until, 
 when we had finished our conversation, and the 
 Italian walked a little ahead of us, he was chal- 
 lenged by the sentinel. A word from Larry, bad 
 French as it was, enabled him to pass. 
 
 We walked our five kilometres, or about three 
 miles, and reached the canal which our guide had 
 described. It was half a mile from the nearest 
 camp, where the last line of sentinels was posted, 
 and the space between it and the river was pa- 
 troled by pickets. On the other side of the 
 stream, Austrian guns were posted behind field- 
 works. The country was covered with long lines 
 of mulberry trees, between which, in the same row, 
 were grape-vines trained up between the trees. 
 The land had been sown with grain, but the march 
 of armies had been over it, so that the crop was 
 ruined.' 
 
 Cuore led us to a point on the canal which was 
 overgrown with osiers, from which the owner evi- 
 dently obtained his basket-stock. Just above it a 
 
212 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 party of French officers were bathing. Among 
 the osiers lay the boat. It was a flat-bottom affair, 
 half Ml of water. We dragged it up and turned 
 it over, but it did not look like a very promising 
 craft for a long cruise. 
 
 " It leaks badly," said Larry. 
 
 " No ; not at all," replied Cuore. " I filled it with 
 water to prevent the soldiers from taking it." 
 
 " I say, signore, if you mean to drown us, say so 
 in the beginning," added Larry, glancing at the 
 frail bateau. 
 
 " No, you cannot be drowned. The water is not 
 deep in the canal, and not deep in the river. I 
 have come two miles in that boat this morning." 
 
 " The boat is well enough," I interposed, as I 
 seated myself in the forward part. 
 
 " Whatever you say about boats, Phil, I be- 
 lieve," added my friend, taking his place in the 
 stern. 
 
 " Now you will take these," continued Cuore, 
 drawing a couple of fish-poles from the osiers. 
 
 " 0, then this is a fishing excursion — is it?" ex- 
 claimed Larry, as he examined the hook and line. 
 
 " Yes ; the pickets will make no trouble when 
 they see two officers fishing in the canal, or in the 
 river." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 213 
 
 " I say, signore, is there any danger of catching 
 a fish here ? " 
 
 " Plenty of fish here." 
 
 " I like fishing ; but we have no bait." 
 
 " Yes, there is bait in the tin box under the 
 seat." 
 
 Larry opened the box, and found a variety of 
 live bugs, one of which he impaled on his hook. I 
 dropped ray line to him, and he baited my hook in 
 the same manner. 
 
 " Now let the boat float down the canal, and 
 don't use the oars," said Cuore. 
 
 "But are you not going with us?" I asked, 
 when I saw by his movements that we were to be 
 alone. 
 
 " Not yet ; I will get into the boat in a few mo- 
 ments. The current will hardly move you, and I 
 wish to see where the picket line is. 1 will not 
 lose sight of you. Don't be alarmed," said Cuore, 
 in a low tone. 
 
 " Where are you going ? " demanded Larry. 
 
 " Only a short distance from the canal. When I 
 see just where the pickets are, I can manage it 
 better. I wish them not to see us till we get into 
 the river." 
 
214 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Then they will fire upon us," I suggested. 
 
 " No, they will not. They will see that you are 
 French officers." 
 
 " But the Austrians will." 
 
 " No, no, no ; the Austrians expect us. They 
 know we are coming," answered the Italian, impa- 
 tiently, as he pushed off the boat, and disappeared 
 behind the osiers. 
 
 We did not see him again very soon. 
 
 The boat floated out into the canal, which was 
 not more than ten feet wide. We dropped our 
 lines overboard. Our craft hardly moved. 
 
 " I have a bite ! " exclaimed Larry. 
 
 " Pull him in, then ! " 
 
 " Lost him ! Well, that's just my luck. If I 
 bait for anvthing I never catch it." 
 
 " But the fish jump into your basket, without 
 giving you the trouble to catch them. In a few 
 years, more or less, you will be Sir Lawrence 
 Grimsby ; and I suppose you won't know such 
 small fish as I am then." 
 
 " Dry up, Phil ! You are the first real friend I 
 ever had. You lend me money and tell me I am a 
 vagabond in the same instant. I don't talk grati- 
 tude, or any such bosh ; but — no matter; I have 
 another bite. Gone again, as usual ! " 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 215 
 
 " I wonder where Cuore is," I added, not feeling 
 much interest in fishing, while our boat was bear- 
 ing us slowly towards the hostile lines. 
 
 " I don't know. You never bet, Phil, nor I, 
 since I knew you. But six months ago, I would 
 have gone three against two that this Cuore is a 
 knave." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " 
 
 " I do, 'pon my soul." 
 
 " I have had some suspicions." 
 
 " So have I ; but I can't make it out ; so I try to 
 think he is all right," replied Larry. " What is 
 the fellow driving at ? Why is he so anxious that 
 I should go to Milan, when I haven't the least 
 desire to go there at present? " 
 
 " I don't understand him ; and I don't see 
 through this business. Why should he leave us 
 floating down this canal alone ? " 
 
 " I don't know. I don't like to back out of any- 
 thing, Phil ; but I expect, as soon as we get to the 
 river, to have a bullet put through my cap. I 
 don't think it will go through my head, because a 
 man that is born to be hanged won't be shot." 
 
 " I am willing to back out any time when it is 
 not safe to go ahead. I have no fancy whatever 
 
216 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 for having an Austrian bullet go through even 
 my cap. In my case, however it may be with 
 you, I am afraid it would go through my head 
 also." 
 
 I dropped my fishing tackle, and picked up 
 an oar, with which I pushed the boat up to the 
 bank. 
 
 " 0, let her slide a while longer ! The French 
 pickets will not fire at us. Just attend to your 
 fishing; we are safe enough in the canal," said 
 Larry, laughing at my fears. 
 
 " I believe in backing out in good season." 
 
 " There is time enough. Cuore may, after all, 
 be an honest man, though I don't know of any 
 particular reason why he should be so anxious to 
 help us into Milan. Has he asked you for any 
 money ? " 
 
 " No ; he never even hinted at payment for any- 
 thing," I replied. 
 
 " If he means anything, of course it is to make 
 some money out of us ; but he wouldn't make 
 anything by letting the Austrians shoot us, for I 
 haven't a big pile with me." 
 
 I permitted the boat to float again with the 
 current, but I was fully resolved not to venture 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 217 
 
 upon the river, unless the Italian should give me 
 some stronger assurance than we had yet received 
 of his ability to protect us. We had not yet ex- 
 amined his pass from Canrobert, but it was still 
 light enough to do so. We continued on our 
 course till I saw the river ahead. We looked 
 about for the Italian, but he was not to be seen. 
 
 " This is as far as I will go, Larry," I said, 
 taking the oar again, when the boat was within 
 fifty yards of the river. * 
 
 " I'm with you, Phil." 
 
 " We will wait here till Cuore comes back," I 
 replied, pushing the bateau to the bank. 
 
 " Perhaps the fellow has been arrested himself 
 — who knows?" laughed Larry. 
 
 " It is not improbable. He walked through 
 several lines of sentinels on the strength of our 
 uniforms." 
 
 " If he has been arrested, of course we don't go 
 to Milan to-night," said Larry. 
 
 " Non, messieurs ; vous ne pouvez pas alter d 
 Milan cette nuit" said a French soldier, rising 
 from the ground, and pointing his musket at 
 my head. 
 
 Three others appeared at the same moment, and 
 
218 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 imitated the dangerous example of the speaker, 
 who had said, " No, gentlemen, you cannot go to 
 Milan to-night." 
 
 " Here we are, Phil," said Larry, shrugging his 
 shoulders. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY DISCUSS THE SITUATION, 
 AND FACE A DRUM-HEAD COURT-MARTIAL. 
 
 k F course the soldier who had acted as spokes- 
 man for the picket guard understood Eng- 
 lish, or he could not so readily have understood 
 Larry's remark about going to Milan that night. 
 The four men kept their muskets persistently 
 pointed at our heads, as though they believed that 
 gunpowder would not explode, or with a reckless 
 disregard of the sanctity of human life. However, 
 I did not consider myself in any especial peril, 
 though I wished they would point their guns a 
 little lower. I believed that the affair was all a 
 mistake, which the appearance of Cuore would 
 rectify, or which an explanation on our part would 
 correct. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, gentlemen ; but may I 
 trouble you to land ? " said the soldier in front of 
 
220 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 the others, in French, and with genuine French 
 politeness, albeit it was utterly hollow and empty. 
 
 " Certainly," I replied. " You speak English ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I can speak English ; but I learn from 
 the description of two spies that one of them 
 speaks French a little, and the other speaks it' very 
 well. You are the one who speaks it very well, 
 I suppose," laughed the soldier, who was a ser- 
 geant. 
 
 " I contrive to make myself understood," I an- 
 swered, as I stepped on shore, followed by Larry. 
 
 The soldier was so polite and considerate that I 
 did not consider the situation as at all desperate, 
 and I could not then classify it as one of the strug- 
 gles of a soldier, though it assumed a different 
 aspect in a short time. 
 
 " You spoke of a description, sergeant," said I, 
 in plain English. " Do I understand you to say 
 that you have a description of my friend and my- 
 self?" | 
 
 " Yes, sir ; and I must sa} r , that you answer to 
 the description marvellously well. Dressed in 
 the uniform of French officers," he replied, taking 
 a paper from his pocket, and reading therefrom. 
 " ' Brigade staff.' ' Young.' May I be allowed to 
 inquire your ages, gentlemen ? " 
 
THE STKUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 221 
 
 " I am nineteen ; and this is my twin friend/' 
 laughed Larry, who seemed to consider the affair 
 as an excellent joke. 
 
 " Thank you, gentlemen. Now, will you pardon 
 me if I ask upon whose staff you serve ? " . contin- 
 ued the sergeant, blandly. 
 
 " Certainly ; it will afford me very great pleas- 
 ure to inform you that we are attached to the staff 
 of General Eberle, in the capacity of volunteer 
 aids," answered Larry. 
 
 "Precisely so," exclaimed' the spokesman of the 
 soldiers, glancing at his companions, and translat- 
 ing the reply ; and they smiled, as though the 
 party understood the matter. 
 
 "There's no doubt about it," added Larry. 
 " You seem to be amused." 
 
 " The description says the two Austrian spies 
 would claim to be members of General Eberle's 
 staff. Will you allow me to look at your coat?" 
 continued the sergeant, stepping up to my friend. 
 " And yours? " he added, placing his hand upon my 
 breast. « There it is ! a hole in the coat on the 
 left breast. I think that is sufficient. You are 
 the gentlemen we are required to arrest." 
 
 " Probably we are," replied Larry. " You have 
 
222 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 had it all your own way, so far. Now I will thank 
 you to answer some of our questions. Do you 
 know one Signor Cuore, an Italian ? " 
 
 " I have not the honor," answered the sergeant. 
 
 " Have you seen an Italian with a stove-pipe 
 hat?" asked Larry, describing our guide more 
 fully. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, gentlemen," replied the 
 polite sergeant ; " but I am to obtain information, 
 and not give it. I can answer no questions. It is 
 my duty to escort you to the headquarters of our 
 brigade." 
 
 " Right, sergeant ; do your duty like a man, and 
 stand by United Italy to the end ; but you have 
 made a mistake," continued my friend. 
 
 " Not possible, gentlemen. You answer the de- 
 scription perfectly." 
 
 " Where did you obtain the description?" I in- 
 quired, with great simplicity. 
 
 The sergeant only shrugged his shoulders, and 
 made no reply. He even laughed at the folly of 
 the question I proposed. 
 
 " What do you take us to be ? " I demanded. 
 
 " Pardon, gentlemen, but we take you to be 
 spies, in the employ of the Austrians, on your 
 
THE STEUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 223 
 
 way to Milan, to inform the Austrian of the num- 
 ber and position of the French and Italian troops/ 7 
 replied the sergeant, in French. 
 
 " What does he say, Phil? " 
 
 I told my friend what the sergeant said ; and 
 certainly it was a very grave charge, considering 
 that we were on the dividing line between the 
 hostile armies, and on the eve of a great battle. 
 
 " Are you not satisfied, gentlemen ? " inquired 
 the bland sergeant. 
 
 " No, sir ; we are not. We are what we claim to 
 be — volunteer aids on the staff of General Eberle. 
 You are making a mistake in arresting us." 
 
 " There is another point in the description ; and 
 since you are not satisfied, we will proceed a little 
 farther. I judged from your conversation that 
 you intended to go to Milan." 
 
 " Have you seen Cuore ? " asked Larry. 
 
 " I answer no questions. Will the gentlemen 
 oblige me by showing their papers ? " 
 
 " To be sure. I am willing to show all my 
 papers ; but I have nothing except some old let- 
 ters, and a letter of credit," answered Larry ; and 
 he emptied his pockets. 
 
 I produced the contents of my pockets, and the 
 
224 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 sergeant proceeded to examine my diary, which 
 contained pockets wherein I kept my papers. 
 One after another he opened them, and finally 
 came to one on which the porter of the hotel in 
 Nice had written the address of my mother's 
 Italian friend and host at Milan. 
 
 " Signor Bertani, Corso de JBosinare, No. 21," 
 continued the sergeant, reading the paper. " Do 
 you know the gentleman whose address you have ? " 
 
 " I do not," I answered. 
 
 " Did you intend to visit him in Milan ? " 
 
 "I did." 
 
 " And, of course, you know that he is a traitor to 
 his country, and a friend of the Austrians ? " added 
 the sergeant, rather warmly. 
 
 " I have been told so ; but I have nothing to do 
 with his politics. I expect to find my mother at 
 his house in Milan." 
 
 "Oui, oui, oui — oui — oui," said the soldier, 
 shrugging his shoulders and laughing, as though 
 he did not put implicit confidence in the truth of 
 my statement. 
 
 " I must escort you to the headquarters of the 
 general of brigade." 
 
 " Before you hang us, you will oblige us very 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 225 
 
 much by sending for General EberleY' said Larry, 
 lightly. 
 
 " We do not hang you. You shall die like sol- 
 diers — by the bullet, and not by the rope. It 
 takes too long to hang men." 
 
 " I say, Phil, he takes a cheerful view of the sub- 
 ject — don't he ?" said Larry, turning to me. 
 
 " I am afraid the situation is more serious than 
 you seem to think it is," I suggested. 
 
 " How can it be serious? We can send for Gen- 
 eral Eberle, and he will make it all right in an in- 
 staut." 
 
 " Perhaps they won't take the trouble to send 
 for him. These French officers have an ugly habit 
 of catching a spy and hanging him without much 
 formalit} 7 -," I replied. " Of course you know what 
 a drum-head court-martial is." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 "I have heard a French officer say that ten 
 minutes was time enough for both trial and exe- 
 cution." 
 
 " That would be no joke." 
 
 We walked along, side by side, with the soldiers 
 around us in such a way that there was no chance 
 to escape. We were conducted first to a lieu- 
 15 ' 
 
226 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 tenant, who promptly ordered us to be taken to 
 headquarters. 
 
 " I am afraid we are in a bad scrape, Larry," I 
 said, as we marched over the unoccupied land. 
 
 " I don't think so. I tell you we are not to be 
 hanged or shot without a hearing of some kind." 
 
 " I doubt whether they will take the trouble to 
 inform our general of their actions." 
 
 " These men are very polite and considerate." 
 
 " But they will hang or shoot you just as quick, 
 for all that. The man that cuts your throat will 
 do it very politely ; but he will do it none the less. 
 I can't say that I blame these men. The case looks 
 very strong against us. The sergeant heard you 
 say that we intended to go to Milan, and he found 
 the address of a traitorous Italian upon me. We 
 were in a boat, headed towards the Austrian lines 
 also." 
 
 " Yet the simple truth will show that we are not 
 Austrians, or in their employ." 
 
 " Yes ; if we can persuade them to believe the 
 simple truth, which may be a very difficult matter." 
 
 " By the way, Phil, what is your opinion of Signor 
 Cuore ? " 
 
 " I presume we shall not differ in opinion just 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 227 
 
 now. But I cannot comprehend what the rascal's 
 object is. Why should he get us into such a scrape 
 as this ? " 
 
 " I don't know ; but I should like, to be intro- 
 duced to Signor Cuore just now," added Larry, 
 with emphasis. 
 
 " Very likely he will appear against us." 
 
 " I don't believe he will. He evidently means 
 to have us shot, and that our case shall be finished 
 in short metre. Since he insisted upon my going 
 to Milan, when I had not the least desire to go at 
 present, I conclude that he particularly desires that 
 I should be shot." 
 
 " Possibly he is impartial, and only desires to 
 have us served alike." 
 
 " The villain started us in that boat alone, in order 
 to bring about just what has happened to us^" 
 
 " Undoubtedly he laid his plans very carefully. 
 I would give something handsome to know what 
 his motives are. I have no enemies that I know 
 of in this part of the world." 
 
 " Are you not mfxed up with those Collingsbys, 
 your mother's brothers, and your gi-andfather, 
 too?" 
 
 " I don't think they have any ill-will towards 
 
228 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 me," I answered, giving an earnest thought to the 
 subject. 
 
 " But, according to your own story, Phil, they 
 believe that you are an impostor, trying to impose 
 upon the credulity of Mrs. Farringford, a member 
 of their family. Perhaps they are afraid that you 
 will succeed in making that lady believe you are 
 really her son. They hate your father, and don't 
 choose to have anything to do with him. Isn't it 
 likely that they have employed Signor Cuore to 
 get rid of you in his mild and pleasant manner, 
 that is to say, in having you hanged or shot as a 
 spy?" 
 
 " It is possible ; but the Co.llingsbys are very 
 respectable people, to say the least, and. I am not 
 willing to believe that they would resort to such 
 an infamous expedient." 
 
 " I don't know, Phil. They are respectable, as 
 you say, and they wish to keep respectable. They 
 believe that the Farringford blood is not respec- 
 table, and they wish to keep it at a safe distance. 
 That's what's the matter, Phil." 
 
 " I cannot believe it." 
 
 " Your mother must have heard something about 
 you before this time. All the Chicago Collingsbys 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 229 
 
 know all about you, even to Miss Marion ; and you 
 may depend upon it, some of them have given her 
 a hint before this time. As she must be more 
 interested in the subject than any of tbe rest of 
 them, she may have manifested a desire to inquire 
 into the matter, which her brothers do not like. 
 Of course they knew that you were on your way 
 to Europe, to find your mother." 
 
 " I don't see how they should know it," I added. 
 
 " They must know it. Didn't you get a letter in 
 Paris from Miss Marian Collingsby ? " 
 
 " I did ; but her father will not permit her even 
 to speak of this subject to him." 
 
 " You are as simple-minded as an infant, Phil ! 
 Marian told her mother all about it ; and she told 
 ■the old man, who, while he pretended to care 
 nothing at all about it, kept up a tremendous 
 thinking, and privately wrote to his agents in 
 London to look after you, and not let you see Mrs. 
 Farringford on any account whatever. Then the 
 London agent employed this Cuore, who was on 
 the train with us to Paris, and has not lost sight of 
 us since. I tell you, Phil, that little scene in the 
 garden of the Tuileries was got up by him merely 
 to make our acquaintance, and secure our confi- 
 
230 BiyOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 dence by doing us a favor. It is just as clear as 
 dock mud to me, Phil." 
 
 " I don't say that you are wrong, Larry ; but if 
 your theory is correct, why was the villain so 
 particular that you should go to Milan, and be 
 sacrificed with me ? " 
 
 " That may look like a stumper to you, but I can 
 explain it to my own satisfaction. This fellow 
 knows that I am a particular friend of yours, and 
 he knows very well, if you disappeared, that I 
 should find you if I had to explore the continent to 
 do so. He knows very well that I should find him, 
 too. I think the villain understands me first rate, 
 and believes that it would not be a prudent step to 
 separate us. I'm right, Phil." 
 
 " I don't know that it makes much difference 
 whether you are right or wrong, now, Larry. We 
 are in a bad scrape." 
 
 " But we shall get out of it, and give Cuore a 
 chance to try the game over again. I should like 
 to put my paws upon him." 
 
 " He will keep out of the way as long as he can. 
 Here is the line of the camps, and we shall soon 
 know what is to become of us." 
 
 We were conducted to the headquarters of the 
 
THE STEUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. ^31 
 
 general of brigade, where the sergeant reported 
 his prisoners, and asked for orders. After waiting 
 half an hour, several officers appeared, but there 
 was no general of brigade among tbem. They 
 seated themselves on camp-stools, and strangely 
 enough, a drum lay on the ground near them, 
 though I am sure it had not been placed there 
 with any reference to the present proceedings. It 
 was an ominous emblem to me, and I did not like 
 the appearance of it. I was unable to determine 
 whether the officers before us constituted a court- 
 martial or not, for I could not hear any of the pro- 
 ceedings. Larry was called up first, and one of 
 the officers proceeded to question him in French. 
 He could not even understand the questions that 
 were put to him. Then one of them addressed 
 him in German ; and Larry answered, '■ Nix." 
 The sergeant suggested that the other prisoner 
 spoke French, and I was called up. 
 
 It appeared that the sergeant and his fellow- 
 soldiers had already told their "story, and that we 
 were really condemned already. I was asked to 
 explain my relations with Signor Bertani, and how 
 I happened to be on my way to Milan in the 
 uniform of a French officer. Before I said any- 
 
23^ BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 thing, I produced my passport, which I had 
 stitched into my coat for safety. 
 
 " You are an American ? " said one of the 
 officers, exhibiting much surprise, as he examined 
 this important paper. 
 
 11 1 am." 
 
 " Good on your head, Phil ! You have hit the 
 nail in the right place this time," exclaimed Larry. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 233 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY ARE SAVED FROM A HARD 
 FATE BY A MOVEMENT OF THE BRIGADE. 
 
 F you are an American, how do you happen 
 to be in the army of France ? " asked the 
 officer, who appeared to be the highest in rank, 
 and who was doubtless the president of the court- 
 martial, if it was such. 
 
 " We are both volunteer aids-de-camp, on the 
 staff of General Eberle," I replied. 
 
 " Is it possible ? " added the officer, glancing at 
 his companions. 
 
 They looked at one another, and then examined 
 my passport again, whose signature and broad 
 seal could not be ignored. Then they began to 
 puzzle themselves over the personal description, 
 and I saw that one of them could read English. 
 The comparison could not but be satisfactory, for 
 the shape of my chin and the color of my e} T es 
 were correctly given, as well as the other details. 
 
234 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Is your friend an American also ? " asked the 
 officer. 
 
 " He was born in England, but has lived in 
 America from his childhood," I answered, believ- 
 ing that the simple truth is always better than 
 falsehood and deception. 
 
 One of the officers walked up to Larry, and 
 spoke to him in German ; but of course neither he 
 nor I understood a word that was said. 
 
 "Nix," replied Larry, shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 The speaker then explained that he had told my 
 friend he might depart in peace. Such a permis- 
 sion, if he had understood it, would have surprised 
 him into a word or a look that might have be- 
 trayed him ; but Larry made no sign that could 
 excite a suspicion. 
 
 " Has your friend a passport ? " asked the chief 
 officer, turning to me again. 
 
 " He has not," I replied. " He left New York 
 rather suddenly, and did not think to procure a 
 passport, as one has but little need of it now." 
 
 " But you were going to Milan ? " said the offi- 
 cer, returning to the suspicious side of the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " I wished to go to Milan because my mother is 
 there." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 235 
 
 The military gentleman shrugged his shoulders, 
 and was evidently incredulous. 
 
 " And you have the address of Signor Bertani, 
 who is an Italian, but in the employ of the Aus- 
 trians. No, no, no ! " 
 
 " My mother is his guest/' I added. 
 
 " No, no ! " 
 
 " I speak only the truth." 
 
 " Humph — possibly." 
 
 " We have already declared that we were at- 
 tached to the staff of General Eberle. If you 
 have any doubt in regard to the truth of what we 
 say, you can refer to that distinguished officer," I 
 suggested. 
 
 " General Eberle" is seven or eight kilometres 
 distant. You refer to some one who is conven- 
 iently removed from us. We make short work 
 with spies," continued the officer. " We may be 
 ordered to march in half an hour, and we have no 
 time to waste upon persons taken in the very act 
 of entering the enemy's lines. We have good evi- 
 dence that you are spies." 
 
 " You refer to Signor Cuore, who is a spy him- 
 self," I answered, with some spirit. " He has a 
 pass in German for three persons to go through 
 the Austrian lines." 
 
236 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 The officers looked at each other and smiled. 
 
 " For two persons," said the officer, correcting 
 me. 
 
 " He told us it was for three. Neither of us can 
 speak or read German." 
 
 " Here is the pass," added the speaker, taking 
 from his pocket the paper which Cuore had exhib- 
 ited, and showing it to me. 
 
 Giving the pass to the gentleman who read and 
 spoke German, he desired him to translate it to 
 us. He gave me the contents of the paper in 
 French. It was an order requiring picket guards 
 and sentinels to pass Philip Farringford and Law- 
 rence Grimsby through the Austrian lines, and to 
 give them every facility for reaching the general 
 in command at Milan. I told Larry in English 
 what the pass was, and we both understood why 
 Cuore had declined to have the Swiss orderly read 
 it. Of course the paper was a forgery ; but we 
 were utterly incapable of fathoming the ultimate 
 purpose of Cuore in leading us into this trap. As 
 the officer seemed to be very patient, in spite of 
 his declaration that he had no time to waste upon 
 such persons as we appeared to be, I began to ex- 
 plain our relations with General Eberle and with 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 237 
 
 Cuore. The party listened attentively, and per- 
 mitted me to finish my narrative. I doubt not I 
 made some blunders in the use of the French lan- 
 guage, for several times I was called upon to re- 
 peat what I had said. When I had concluded my 
 story, there was a general shrugging of shoulders, 
 and a general smile of incredulity. 
 
 It was now nearly dark, and the officers, after 
 consulting together for a moment, seated them- 
 selves on camp-stools around the drum which I 
 had before observed. Larry and myself were 
 ordered to stand at an opening in the ring oppo- 
 site the officer who had questioned us. I con- 
 cluded that the formal proceedings were about to 
 commence. 
 
 " It looks serious, Larry," I said. 
 
 " That's so ; but you mustn't give it up, Phil. 
 Make a spread-eagle speech. If I could speak the 
 language, I would do so. Shake your passport at 
 them." 
 
 " I am afraid it will do no good." 
 
 " Try it, and see. I have no idea of being shot 
 in this way by these frog-eaters, when I sxand 
 ready to fight for them. It isn't giving a fellow a 
 fair show." 
 
238 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Have you anything to say why you should 
 not be shot as spies ? " said the president of the 
 court-martial. 
 
 " We demand a fair trial," I replied. " We are 
 Americans, and we are in the service of France, 
 ready to fight her battles. We are not spies, and 
 we ask for the advice and assistance of the nearest 
 representative of the United States government. 
 We also demand the privilege of confronting our 
 accuser. He is a villain and a liar." 
 
 I spoke with energy ; and, adopting the sugges- 
 tion of Larry, I flourished my passport with vigor 
 in the face of the presiding officer. 
 
 " You wish to see Signor Cuore ? " added the 
 president. 
 
 " We do." 
 
 " Bring Signor Cuore." 
 
 The proceedings were suspended ; but some 
 time elapsed before the Italian was produced. I 
 saw by his actions that he came very unwillingly. 
 He was placed by the side of the drum in the 
 centre of the circle, and required to state what he 
 knew about us. He declared that he had followed 
 us from Paris, where he had seen us in commu- 
 nication with several Austrians, and that he had 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 239 
 
 watched us up to the moment we had attempted 
 to pass the river, when he deemed it his duty to 
 inform the picket-guard of our intentions, which 
 he had done. 
 
 " Where did you get the pass which you allege 
 is ours ? " I asked. 
 
 " I found it where you lost, it," replied Cuore, 
 chuckling as though he had done a clever thing. 
 
 " Where did you find it ? " I demanded, en- 
 ergetically. 
 
 " You dropped it when you pulled out your 
 handkerchief." 
 
 " You do not say where you found it." 
 
 " On the bank of the canal, before you got into 
 the boat." 
 
 " Were you with us at the time ? " 
 
 " No ; I was behind you." 
 
 " But not in company with us ? " 
 
 " No, certainly not." 
 
 " Were you at the camp of General Eberle" 
 with us ? " 
 
 " No ; never." 
 
 " Did you not come down from the camp of 
 General Eberle* to the canal ? " 
 
 " I did not." 
 
240 - BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " All right, my boy ! If the Evil One should 
 look for a liar, where in all Italy could we put 
 you ? " added Larry, who had listened attentive- 
 ly to the conversation, which was carried on in 
 English. 
 
 " He would take you, and not look any farther," 
 replied Cuore. 
 
 " What are you saying ? " demanded the pres- 
 ident, impatiently, for he did not understand 
 English. 
 
 I related the substance of the conversation 
 in French, and Cuore indorsed my version as 
 correct. 
 
 " Now, Monsieur le Chef de Bataillon" I con- 
 tinued, guessing at the rank of the officer, " this 
 man says he was not with us at the camp of 
 General Eberle, or at any other time." 
 
 '• Certainly not," added Cuore. 
 
 " If you would do me the favor to send for the 
 officer of the guard at the next post, he will tell 
 you that we passed this Italian through his lines." 
 
 " He only wants to gain time," replied Cuore, 
 with one of his politest bows. 
 
 " I have not time to send to any post." 
 
 " Will you condemn two innocent men — Ameri- 
 cans ? " I pleaded. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 241 
 
 " The evidence is very full and satisfactory." 
 
 " But this man is a liar. He showed this pass 
 at the camp of our general." 
 
 " No. All that he said proves to be true. We 
 found the address of Signor Bertani upon you. If 
 you are in the French service, you are deserters ; 
 if not, you are spies, for you were trying to pass 
 our lines, and spoke of going to. Milan, but not to- 
 night. It is a plain case. Gentlemen, give me 
 your attention," said the officer, addressing his 
 companions. 
 
 Just at this moment the tap of a drum and the 
 heavy tramp of a considerable body of men were 
 heard in the area between the line and the river. 
 They attracted the attention" of all the party. An 
 officer with hasty step walked up to the members 
 of the court-martial, and asked for the general of 
 brigade in command. 
 
 " Good ! Monsieur Foucault ! " shouted Larry, 
 at the top of his lungs. 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur Grimsby ! " exclaimed the officer, 
 walking up to my friend and grasping his hand. 
 
 " Where is General Eberle ? " asked Larry. 
 
 " Our brigade is ordered to bivouac here, near 
 the river. Give us joy ! We shall be in the fight. 
 16 
 
242 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 But, pardon, I have an order to deliver to the 
 general of brigade at this point." 
 
 " Pardon, also. We are in trouble, and if you 
 don't get us out of the scrape, we shall be shot as 
 spies in five minutes more." 
 
 " Impossible ! " 
 
 " Fact, my boy ! Speak a good word for us, and 
 it will be all right." 
 
 " Messieurs, these gentlemen are my comrades 
 on the staff of General Eberle." 
 
 " Is it possible ? " exclaimed the principal officer, 
 as though it was an entirely new idea to him. 
 
 " You can bet high on it," added Larry, whose 
 French ear was improving wonderfully. 
 
 Suddenly my friend sprang away from me, and I 
 saw him pounce upon the lying Italian, who, seeing 
 that the current had turned in our favor, was trying 
 to sneak away. 
 
 " No, you don't, my fair child of Italy ! " cried 
 Larry, as he dragged Cuore into the ring. " You 
 have got up a little entertainment here for some- 
 body, and you must stay and face the music." 
 
 " You will oblige me by detaining that man," 
 said Lieutenant Foucault. " He has been hanging 
 around our camp for several days*- These gentle- 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 243 
 
 men are particular friends of our chef de brigade, 
 and any favor accorded to thern will be a service 
 •rendered to him." 
 
 " Arrest the Italian ! " said the president to the 
 men who had guarded Larry and myself. 
 
 In a moment Cuore had a soldier on each side 
 of him. 
 
 " Je demande pardon," continued the officer, ex- 
 tending his hand to me. " I have made a great 
 mistake." 
 
 "I think you are rather summary in your pro- 
 ceedings ; for, if I understand the situation, you 
 were about to sentence us to be shot." 
 
 " But the proof was very strong," pleaded he. 
 
 " There was no evidence that we were spies ; 
 and you refused to inform General Eberle of our 
 situation. But you were only too zealous in the 
 discharge of your duty," I replied. 
 
 The aid found the general of the brigade, and 
 delivered his message. Several officers congrat- 
 ulated us upon our fortunate escape, and we were 
 permitted to depart. But we were not ready yet 
 to go. Larry insisted that he had " a bone to pick " 
 with Cuore. It was plainly the purpose of this 
 man to sacrifice us. He wanted our lives, and had 
 
244 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 actually laid a snare, by which we were to be shot 
 as spies. I could not fathom his purpose ; and 
 Larry was equally unable to do so. 
 
 " Will you go with me to headquarters ? " asked. 
 Foucault, when he had delivered his message. 
 
 " Not yet," replied Larry, " unless you can take 
 this Italian with you." 
 
 " Very likely I can." 
 
 u He arrived in the camp from Milan this morn- 
 ing, and if there are any spies around here, in my 
 opinion he is one of them. General Eberle" would 
 have ordered his arrest this morning if he had not 
 considered him our friend." 
 
 " I will speak with the chef de bataillon" replied 
 the aid, walking towards that officer. 
 
 A short consultation resulted in an order for the 
 soldiers to conduct Cuore to the headquarters of 
 General Eberle. We followed him, and found our 
 brigade quartered not far from the canal where we 
 had been arrested. The general had just completed 
 the disposition of his force when we arrived. He 
 gazed at us with astonishment, and with no less 
 surprise at Cuore under guard. As briefly as pos- 
 sible we told him what had occurred. 
 
 " The man is a villain ! " exclaimed the general. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 245 
 
 " Italy's skies never glowed over a greater vil- 
 lain ! " added Larry. 
 
 " Why does he seek your lives ? " 
 
 " No Italian sage is wise enough to know. Be- 
 ing Yankees, we can guess ; being philosophers, — 
 a least, Phil is philosophical, — we desire to in- 
 vestigate." 
 
 " I shall hold him as a spy, for he says he came 
 from Milan, and is a native of that city," replied 
 General Eberle, readily comprehending our wishes. 
 " We will have him searched, and you shall ex- 
 amine his papers, if you wish." 
 
 " We do wish ; but first, we should like to ques- 
 tion him," replied Phil. 
 
 We seated ourselves upon camp-stools, and the 
 guards were ordered to bring up the culprit. 
 
346 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY SOLVE A PROBLEM, AND 
 THE ITALIAN MAKES A BAD MOVE. 
 
 DON'T understand it at all," said I, while we 
 were waiting for the guards to bring up the 
 prisoner. " I can't fathom the motives of this mis- 
 erable Italian ; and the more I think of it, the more 
 confused I become." 
 
 " My brains are all boggled up over the matter," 
 added Larry ; " but the only thing I can make of 
 it is, that he is an agent of those Farringfords, of 
 Chicago. You are a good-looking fellow, Phil, but 
 they evidently don't mean to have you come into 
 their family." 
 
 " Possibly he is what you say," I replied, musing 
 again on the subject, though I thought the Far- 
 ringfords were altogether too dignified to resort to 
 such trickery. 
 
 " What can we do with this fellow, general ? " 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 247 
 
 asked Larry, appealing to our powerful military 
 friend. 
 
 " Do anything what you please with ze man," 
 replied the general. " He have said he has been 
 in Milan. I take him for a spy from ze Austrians." 
 
 " You have him on the hip, then," laughed my 
 friend. 
 
 " On ze hip ? " 
 
 " Where the hair is short." 
 
 "Ze hair?" 
 
 " In a tight place, I mean." 
 
 " What is that ? " asked the bewildered French- 
 man. 
 
 " No gentleman ought to be expected to under- 
 stand such slang," I interposed. 
 
 " I have thought I know ze English language," 
 added the general, shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 " But these are idioms," laughed Larry. 
 
 " No, they are not ; they are only slang expres- 
 sions. My friend means that you have the advan- 
 tage of this Italian," I explained. 
 
 " I have ze advantage ? " 
 
 u Why don't you speak English to him, Phil ? 
 ' On the hip ' is a clearer expression than having 
 the advantage. At any rate, you have the advan- 
 
248 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 tage of the general, for he don't know what you 
 mean any better than he did what I meant." 
 
 " He intended to say that you have Cuore where 
 you can do as you please with him," I added to 
 the general. 
 
 " Oui, oui, oui — oui — oui ! " exclaimed the gen- 
 eral, after the manner of his countrymen when an 
 obscure idea becomes plain to them. " I can put 
 him on ze hip, with a handkerchief over his eyes, 
 with a file of soldiers before him, who shall fire at 
 him till he die." 
 
 " Don't do that just yet, general, if you please," 
 interposed Larry. " That would be putting him on 
 the hip rather too much." 
 
 " I shall do what you wish. You are ze court- 
 martial. You shall try ze prisoner. You shall say 
 if he is guilty or not guilty ; and you shall say if 
 he shall be shot, if he shall be hanged, if he shall 
 live. He have come," said General Eberle", as the 
 soldiers appeared, conducting the prisoner into 
 our presence. 
 
 " This way, my brave son of United Italy," 
 shouted Larry; and the soldiers brought the 
 Italian to the place where we were seated. 
 
 " You have sent for me, and I have come," 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 249 
 
 said Cuore, trj T ing to put a bold face upon the 
 matter. 
 
 " You stole that remark from a play ; it is no 
 more original than your rascality. Are you going 
 to Milan to-night, as you promised, Signor Cuore?" 
 
 " I am not in condition to go now," replied lie, 
 glancing at his guards. 
 
 " It seems you had no intention of going to 
 Milan. When were you there last ? " 
 
 Cuore looked at the general, and then at Larry, 
 and evidently did not deem it prudent to answer 
 this question. 
 
 " You have said you were in Milan last night," 
 added the general, sternly. 
 
 " I was not there last night," answered Cuore. 
 
 " You have lied, then. These gentlemen have 
 said what you told them. I shall take ze word of 
 ze gentlemen. I shall treat you like a spy." 
 
 " I am not a spy, general," protested the- Italian, 
 startled by this declaration. 
 
 " You said you were in the secret service. . Who 
 employs you ? " asked General Eberle. in French. 
 
 " I am in the service of the police department/' 
 answered Cuore. 
 
 " Have you been in Milan ? " 
 
250 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " No, general." 
 
 " What is your business with these gentlemen? " 
 
 " I only desire to assist them." 
 
 " And for that reason you denounced us as 
 spies," I interposed. 
 
 " That was your own fault," replied the villain, 
 coolly. " I only desired to serve you ; and I 
 expected, when I had taken you to your mother, 
 that you would reward me handsomely for my 
 trouble. That is the whole of it. I was only 
 anxious to make some money." 
 
 " Did you expect to make any money by de- 
 nouncing us as spies ? " I demanded in English, 
 for the accommodation of Larry. 
 
 " You denounced yourselves. You were foolish 
 enough to talk about going to Milan while you 
 were in the boat, which was the same thing as 
 telling the soldiers on picket that you intended to 
 go there." 
 
 " Why didn't you return to us, as you prom- 
 ised ? " asked Larry. 
 
 " I could not. The soldiers arrested me. I told 
 them you were officers, fishing ; and if you had not 
 spoken of going to Milan, it would have been all 
 right. After you were arrested, I was obliged 
 
THE STEUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 251 
 
 to tell the whole truth, or I should have been shot 
 at once." 
 
 " Liar that thou art ! " cried Larry. " When did 
 you write that German pass ? " 
 
 The scoundrel had evidently forgotten about 
 the pass, which fully proved that he had prepared 
 his plan for sacrificing us long before we left 
 the camp. 
 
 We all questioned him for some time, and the 
 more he said the deeper he involved himself in the 
 tangle of falsehood and deceit. 
 
 " Cuore, this is all bosh," said Larry, when our 
 patience was exhausted. " We are satisfied that 
 you are here for a purpose, and that your purpose 
 is to make an end of Phil and myself." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind, gentlemen. You wrong 
 me. I have been your friend. I have done all I 
 could to serve you. I saved you from the police 
 in Paris, I assisted you in the steamers, and have 
 done everything to aid you. You could not have 
 reached Italy without my help." 
 
 " But you brought us here to have us shot 
 by order of a court-martial. Do you know a 
 family of the name of Farringford ? " added Larry, 
 sharply. 
 
252 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " I know our friend here, but no other one of 
 the name/' replied Cuore, shaking his head. 
 
 " Who employed you to take charge of us? In 
 whose employ do you labor to have us shot, 
 drowned, or otherwise disposed of? " 
 
 " You wrong me, gentlemen." 
 
 " General, will you do us the favor to have this 
 man searched?" added Larry, turning to our mili- 
 tary friend. 
 
 " Certainly," replied he, giving the order in 
 French to the sergeant in charge of the prisoner. 
 
 The conspirator evidently did not relish this 
 measure, for he turned pale, and I saw that he 
 was very much agitated. The sergeant obeyed 
 the order, and searched the prisoner in the most 
 thorough manner. A considerable sum of money 
 in napoleons was found in his purse, and several 
 letters and papers. The sergeant was directed to 
 return the purse, but the papers were handed to 
 me for examination. 
 
 " Those are my private papers," said Cuore. 
 
 " Precisely so ; and that is the particular reason 
 why we wish to see them," answered Larry. 
 
 " I took you to be gentlemen," added the pris- 
 oner, faintly. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 253 
 
 " We are very much obliged to you for the com- 
 pliment your good judgment paid to us, and we 
 are very sorry to be obliged to consult your pri- 
 vate papers before we venture an opinion upon 
 you. Open the documents, Phil." 
 
 " I protest ! This is an outrage," said Cuore, 
 warming up. 
 
 " Right! Go on with the outrage, Phil." 
 
 I opened a letter, which was in Italian, and I 
 could not read it. I handed it to General Eberle. 
 
 " I am in the employ of the police department 
 of Paris, and you have no right to examine my 
 papers," continued the prisoner. " It is an out- 
 rage." 
 
 " Proceed with the outrage, Phil," added Larry, 
 as I picked up a letter which bore the London 
 postmark. 
 
 It was directed to Cuore at Marseilles. I 
 opened it, and found it was in English. I looked 
 for the signature first, but there was none. This 
 fact was an indication that the fellow was in the 
 employ of some one who would not even trust his 
 name to paper. I did not recognize the hand- 
 writing, as I should have done if it had been that 
 of either of the Farringfords of Chicago. The let- 
 
254 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 ter had contained a circular note for one thousand 
 francs, and promised further remittances as the 
 business proceeded. The other letters and papers 
 were of no consequence to us, and our search 
 seemed to amount to nothing, notwithstanding the 
 violent objections of Cuore. We concluded that 
 we had not found his most important documents ; 
 but the most diligent search failed to reveal any- 
 thing further upon his person. 
 
 " Who wrote this letter ? " I asked, holding the 
 one from London. 
 
 " I decline to answer," replied Cuore, who 
 seemed to be greatly reassured by the ill success 
 of our inquiries. 
 
 " Never mind, my sunny son of Italy. We have 
 another string to our bow," said Larry. 
 
 "What is that?" I asked. . 
 
 " General, has the mail-bag gone ? " inquired 
 Larry. 
 
 " No. We were ordered to march a few mo- 
 ments after you left," replied the general. 
 
 " Good ! Our friend here mailed some letters. 
 I think we had better examine them." 
 
 The general summoned his orderly, and directed 
 the mail-bag to be brought to him. I kept my 
 
. THE STEUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 255 
 
 eye on the prisoner, who became very much 
 agitated again as soon as he understood our pur- 
 pose. The small leather bag, in which the letters 
 of the brigade were sent to the nearest post- 
 office, was soon brought to the general, who 
 opened it. 
 
 "Sir Philip Grimsby," said he, reading the 
 superscription of the first he took out. 
 
 " That's mine," added Larry. 
 
 " Miss Ella Gracewood." 
 
 " That's mine," I replied. 
 
 " Miss Blanche Fennimore." 
 
 " All right," said Larry. 
 
 Half a dozen more to people in Paris and other 
 parts of France followed. 
 
 " Here is another Grimsby," added the general. 
 " Mr. Miles Grimsby." 
 
 " That's more to the point. Let us see it. He 
 is a cousin of mine." 
 
 Larry took the letter, and the address suggested 
 a now theory to me, as it must have done to my 
 friend. 
 
 " That's not my writing," said Larry. 
 
 " Nor mine," I added. " No one here but our- 
 selves can possibly know Miles Grimsby." 
 
256 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Doubted ! " exclaimed Larry. " I begin to see 
 through the hole in this millstone." 
 
 " So do I." 
 
 " What you have discovered ? " asked the gen- 
 eral, with interest. 
 
 " We should like very much to know what is in 
 this letter," replied Larry. 
 
 " The letter is sealed," said the general, doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " But it was written by Cuore to the man who 
 employed him to see that we do not return to 
 England." 
 
 " It is not my letter ; I know nothing about it," 
 interposed the prisoner, struggling to appear" in- 
 different, in which he signally failed. 
 
 " If it is not your letter, of course it does not 
 concern you," added Larry. 
 
 " No ; but you have no right to open any per- 
 son's letter. As an agent of the police, I will in- 
 form against you if you open a single envelope." 
 
 " Martial law here," said the general, taking the 
 letter into his own hands. " You do not open ze 
 letter, Monsieur Greemsby ; you do not open ze 
 letter, Monsieur Farringfor'. Ze general open ze 
 letter. I take ze responsibility. You have un- 
 derstood me ? " 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 257 
 
 " Perfectly," we both replied. 
 " And you, Signor Cuore ? " 
 " I protest ! No one but the members of the 
 police have the right to open a letter," replied 
 the prisoner, much alarmed. 
 
 " You protest, and I open ze letter," said the 
 general, suiting the action to the word. " Voilci ! " 
 exclaimed the general, pointing to the signature 
 of the letter, as he handed it to Larry. " You 
 have wrote ze letter, signore. It have your 
 name with ze pen at ze end of it." 
 
 " This is entirely to the point, Phil," said Larry, 
 as he glanced at the sheet. " The next time you 
 see a Farringford, apologize to the whole race of 
 them for the injury I have done them. This fellow 
 is not working up your case, but mine." 
 " This is an outrage," said Cuore, angrily. 
 " So it is, my precious scoundrel ; but by just 
 such outrages as this is innocence like mine pro- 
 tected from villany like yours." 
 
 At this moment, Cuore, hopeless now that any 
 cunning or any accident could conceal his rascal- 
 ity, sprang away from the guards who were stand- 
 ing on each side of him, and leaped upon Larry, 
 who held the important letter in his hand. But 
 17 
 
258 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OB 
 
 the sergeant was hardly less active, and threw 
 himself upon his prisoner, followed by three 
 soldiers. The Italian struggled to shake off his 
 persecutors. The peril of his situation has ren- 
 dered him desperate, and before the sergeant and 
 his companions could obtain a firm hold of him, he 
 darted out from under them. In another instant 
 he was running with all his might towards the 
 pickets on the bank of the river. The soldiers 
 grasped their muskets and pursued him. Three 
 shots followed each other in rapid succession, af- 
 ter we lost sight of the party in the darkness. 
 
 " I don't believe that fellow will trouble us any 
 more," said Larry, after we heard the report of 
 the muskets. 
 
 " I have no wish to have him shot," I replied. 
 
 " Nor I ; but he has brought it upon himself. 
 Here they come. They have finished him." 
 
 The soldiers returned, bringing with them the 
 Italian. He was not dead, and 1 raised the lan- 
 tern from the camp-stool to ascertain his condi- 
 tion. The surgeon was at hand, and soon ascer- 
 tained that two bullets had passed through the 
 body of Cuore. His case was doubtful, but not 
 hopeless, and he was sent to the rear. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 259 
 
 By the light of the lantern we read his letter to 
 Miles Grimsby, in which he reported progress to 
 his employer. He said that his " friends " in- 
 tended to start for Milan, and he was " afraid " 
 some accideDt would happen to them. 
 
260 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL INVENTS AND LAUNCHES AN AQUATIC 
 MACHINE, AND PREPARES TO CROSS THE TICINO. 
 
 T had never occurred either to Larry or my- 
 self that Cuore had any connection with the 
 Grimsbys. It is true that Miles had solemnly 
 warned my friend of the peril he incurred by 
 allowing events to take their natural course — by 
 permitting Sir Philip to have his own way. Nei- 
 ther of us gave the baronet's grandson the credit 
 of being a person of any particular force of char- 
 acter, either for good or evil. We regarded his 
 warning as an idle threat, intended to intimidate 
 a weak mind, but to have no effect whatever upon 
 such minds as we flattered ourselves that we pos- 
 sessed. 
 
 " Miles has some grit in his constitution," said 
 Larry, after the soldiers had borne the wounded 
 Italian to the rear. " I would not have believed 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 261 
 
 that he had the spunk to kill a flea, or raise his 
 hand against a good-sized bull-frog." 
 
 " It does not require much courage to employ 
 an Italian bravo to do your dirty work for you," I 
 replied. 
 
 " It was very well managed, whoever did it ; 
 and, so far as I can see, the plot would have been 
 successful if General Eberle's brigade had not 
 moved over here at just this time." 
 
 " Probably it would have been successful. I 
 can't say I like the way these Frenchmen do these 
 things. Sometimes they shoot a man, and hear the 
 evidence for or against him afterwards. We came 
 within one of being shot on the testimony of this 
 miserable Cuore." 
 
 '• Precisely so ; and I judge, from the stories of 
 those who speak English, that many a fellow as 
 good-looking as you or I has been shot on no bet- 
 ter evidence. There's a great deal of uncertainty 
 in this world, Phil," added my companion, sagely. 
 
 " In this particular part of it, and at this particu- 
 lar time, there is ; and this fact convinces me that 
 we are out of our element. If I had known no 
 more French than you do, Larry, we should have 
 been sacrificed before our brigade arrived." 
 
262 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Correct ; and, Phil, we will get out of this 
 scrape as soon as convenient ; for, however I may 
 feel in regard to myself, I will not risk your neck 
 among the Philistines any longer than is absolutely 
 necessary." 
 
 " I am afraid that you are in greater danger 
 than I am, Larry," I answered. 
 
 " Why so ! " 
 
 " Because Miles Grimsby will never be satisfied 
 till he has removed you from between himself and 
 his expectations." 
 
 " Now that 1 understand the matter, I don't care 
 a fig for him. Miles will find it a very difficult 
 thing to wipe me out." 
 
 " He has exhibited no little tact in managing his 
 case so far. He went down to London with us, 
 and there employed this reckless Italian to fol- 
 low us." 
 
 " Of course that little farce in the gardens of 
 the Tuileries was only a trick of Cuore to intro- 
 duce himself," added Larry. 
 
 " That's all ; but I have no doubt that he is, or 
 has been, in the employ of the police department, 
 as a spy, a shadow, a stool-pigeon." 
 
 " But I wonder where Miles found him." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 263 
 
 Miles has travelled on the continent, and very- 
 likely Cuore has been a courrier or valet de place, 
 employed by him." 
 
 " If he gets well, very T likely we shall have to 
 fight this battle over again in some other form. 
 No matter ; it will make it lively for me." 
 
 By this time the troops of the brigade were 
 asleep on the ground, where they had bivouacked 
 for the night. It was said in the camp that 
 McMahon, with the Imperial Guard, had been mov- 
 ing towards the north, and it was believed that the 
 great battle was close at hand. It seemed to me 
 then that I was quite willing to avoid the savage 
 contest, in which I had no particular interest; but 
 I saw no way to do so. We had been praised and 
 flattered by the officers, called the "brave Ameri- 
 cans," and we felt that much was expected of us. 
 At any rate, we were too deeply committed by our 
 pride and self-respect to run away. We drew our 
 blankets over us, and went to sleep together on 
 the right bank of the Ticino, near what is now his- 
 toric ground. 
 
 Early the next morning, though the sound of 
 booming guns came not to our waiting ears, and 
 all was as still as if earth knew no discordant 
 
264 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 notes, our brigade was in marching order. Haver- 
 sacks were filled with rations, ammunition was 
 served out, and every preparation was made for 
 active operations. 
 
 On that day was fought the great and decisive 
 battle of Magenta. 
 
 Its story is briefly told. On the left of the allied 
 army, McMahon had marched, two days before, to 
 the north. On the preceding day this force had 
 crossed the Ticino at Turbigo, a considerable dis- 
 tance above the spot where the Austrians had 
 evidently expected the attack. But the enemy 
 hurried forward his troops in that direction, and 
 soon had a superior force between McMahon and 
 the main body of the allies. On the day of the bat- 
 tle, the emperor crossed the bridge at Buffalora, 
 and took position in front of one hundred and 
 twenty-five thousand Austrians, who, apparently 
 unable to determine the plan of the allies, made no 
 attack until about noon. Guyulai, the Austrian 
 commander-in-chief, learning that the bridge of Buf- 
 falora had been captured, and that the invaders 
 had crossed the river, despatched a force to drive 
 back the allies, and retake the bridge. Canrobert 
 was to have followed tjie emperor, who had ad- 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 265 
 
 vanced with the grenadiers of the Imperial 
 Guard, but was delayed, and for a time the situa- 
 tion of the emperor was critical. The Guard stood 
 their ground with a steadiness which has hardly a 
 parallel in history. Seven times in the course of 
 two hours did the enemy charge upon the little 
 force which surrounded his majesty, but were as 
 often repulsed. Then the Guard, weary and im- 
 patient under this passive fighting, attacked the 
 Austrians. Canrobert then appeared, and the po- 
 sition was *von. 
 
 During these critical moments, when the Impe- 
 rial Guard were almost borne under by the force 
 of opposing numbers, the emperor was frequently 
 observed to cast his eyes anxiousl} 7 in the direction 
 of Turbigo, from which he expected the force of 
 McMahon to come. It came at last, having fought 
 its way through a superior force, and the junction 
 was effected in accordance with the plan of the 
 emperor. But the Austrians fought bravely to 
 the last, and were slowly driven back upon Ma- 
 genta, which was taken, house by house, by the 
 French, and the great victory was complete and 
 final. 
 
 Until late in the afternoon, our brigade had 
 
266 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 been wholly unoccupied, except in watching the 
 movements of the enemy on the other side of the 
 river. We were part of the force on the right of 
 the emperor, whose duty it was to prevent the 
 enemy from crossing the river, and taking the 
 allies on the flank. An Austrian corps oVarmee was 
 stationed at Abbiate Grasso, directly in front of 
 our position, which we were either to neutralize or 
 follow, as the case might require. 
 
 At noon we heard the roar of the guns, and the 
 sharp rattle of the musketry at Buffalora. The 
 combat deepened as the day advanced. From the 
 highest points of observation, even from the tops 
 of the trees and the roofs of the houses, the 
 glasses of the field' officers were directed towards 
 the country between Abbiate Grasso and Magenta, 
 to obtain the earliest intelligence of the move- 
 ments of the enemy in front of our division. A 
 pontoon train was in readiness to throw a bridge 
 over the river, whenever the situation required an 
 advance. But the other side of the river was still 
 picketed by the Austrians. General Eberle* was 
 constantly in consultation with the general of divis- 
 ion, and they were evidently much perplexed to 
 ascertain the operations of the Austrian corps in 
 front of them. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 267 
 
 To my surprise, I found myself quite as much 
 excited as the Frenchmen around me, while Larry 
 was almost wild with the desire to take a more 
 active part in the great events of the day. We 
 were both mounted, and had done our full share of 
 duty. The troops were kept in line, in readiness 
 to move ; but we all agreed that we had a very 
 stupid part to perform. 
 
 " Dull music, Phil," said my friend. 
 
 " Rather ; but I suppose we shall soon have 
 something to do," I answered. 
 
 " I am afraid not." 
 
 " Of course, if the French carry the day above, 
 the Austrians will not long remain in front of us. 
 As soon as they move, we shall cross over and 
 take the Austrians on the left." 
 
 " Do you know, Phil, I believe those Dutchmen 
 over there are fooling our generals?" 
 
 " What makes you think so ? " 
 
 " We can't see through all those trees. A hun- 
 dred thousand men could move beyond the slope 
 without being seen. If I were the general of 
 division here, I would cross the river this instant," 
 replied Larry, highly excited. 
 
 " Don't you see that battery over there ? " 
 
268 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Hang the battery ! It has only a dozen guns 
 or so. That must be carried as soon as we cross." 
 
 " But it makes a difference whether or not it is 
 supported by a corps aVarmee. Our generals ought 
 to have some one on the other side of the river, 
 to let them know how the thing is going there," I 
 suggested. 
 
 " Suppose you go over, Phil ? " laughed Larry. 
 
 " I am entirely willing," I replied, hardly think- 
 ing what I was saying. 
 
 " I should like to go with you, if the thing were 
 possible," added my friend. 
 
 " It is possible, of course." 
 
 " What, with pickets on the other side of the 
 stream ? I think not." 
 
 " But it is possible, and I will agree to do it." 
 
 " I will go with you, Phil ; but it can't be done. 
 You would be shot twenty times before you could 
 get over. Here is the general," added Larry, as a 
 party of field officers passed near <us. 
 
 Larry told our general what I had said. 
 
 " Not possible ! " exclaimed he. 
 
 " I think it is ; and I will undertake the job, if 
 you will support me," I answered, with a reckless- 
 ness which has ever since amazed me. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 2G9 
 
 " I will give you ze support of ze whole brigage, 
 with grand pleasure," said the general. '" We 
 want ze information. Suppose ze enemy move ; 
 we don't see him ; we don't know when he go ; 
 we don't know where he go ; no ! " 
 
 " I will be over there in half an hour, or an hour, 
 at most, if you will do what I ask." 
 
 " Certainly, I do all you ask," added the general, 
 with enthusiasm. 
 
 " You have a battery of artillery. Drive the 
 pickets back from the river with it." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And give me one of the large copper soup- 
 boilers from the cuisine," I added. 
 
 " A soup-kettle ! " exclaimed the military gen- 
 tleman. " Will you cross in a soup-kettle ? Ze 
 Austrians will make a riddle of you with bullets." 
 
 " I do not purpose to cross in the soup-boiler. 
 But if you will leave that part to me, I will 
 manage it." 
 
 " As you please." 
 
 " Do you see that tall tree on the top of the 
 little hill? " I asked, pointing to a very tall poplar, 
 whose branches had been trimmed off for seventy 
 or eighty feet from the ground, as they are often 
 seen in France and Italy. 
 
270 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " I see him," replied General Eberle, nervously. 
 
 " If the Austrians have marched towards Ma- 
 genta, I will wave my handkerchief from the top 
 of that tree, or some other one near it." 
 
 " Bravo ! " shouted the general, hugging me in 
 his enthusiasm, as though I had already done all I 
 promised to do. 
 
 " Now send the soup-boiler down to the canal," 
 I replied, pointing to the willows where we had 
 embarked the evening before. 
 
 " Can't I go with you, Phil ? " asked Larry, as 
 we walked to our baggage-wagon. 
 
 " Only one can go." 
 
 " But you will be shot, Phil." 
 
 " I think not. I'm going in for a safe job. You 
 shall help me off." 
 
 I threw off my uniform, and put on a pair of 
 plain pants, which, with a shirt and a pair of shoes, 
 was my entire suit. Taking a saw, a hatchet, 
 some rope, and nails, I hastened to the canal, 
 attended by Larry. I found a joist which had 
 belonged to a bridge that had been destroyed, 
 from which I cut off two pieces three feet in 
 length. Placing them two feet apart, I nailed two 
 sticks securely across them, so as to keep them in 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 271 
 
 position, forming a frame three feet by two. By 
 this time the soup-kettle had arrived. Putting the 
 frame in the water, I placed the boiler upon 
 it, upside down, to ascertain if the joists would 
 float it. 
 
 The experiment was not satisfactory, and I was 
 obliged to add two more sticks, in order to in- 
 crease the floatage power of the raft. It was a 
 success this time ; and turning over the boiler, I 
 lashed it firmly to the sticks. 
 
 " What under the light of the blue canopy are 
 you doing, Phil ? " demanded Larry, who had 
 watched me with interest, and assisted me as 
 I required. " What sort of a machine do you 
 call that?" 
 
 " I don't call it. Now lend me your revolver." 
 I took the pistol, and fired six shots at the 
 copper, which only dented it, and none of the balls 
 went through. 
 
 " All right, Lariy. You see it is bullet-proof." 
 " I see it is ; the metal gives so that the shots 
 bound off." 
 
 " Now help me put it into the water." 
 We launched the novel machine, and I found 
 that the floatage of the wood was none too great, 
 
272 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 for the raft was very nearly submerged by the 
 weight upon it. We towed the thing down to the 
 mouth of the canal. 
 
 " Now, Larry, go and tell the general to clean 
 out the pickets," I continued. 
 
 " All right ; but what are you going to do ? " 
 
 " I'm going to swim across the river, with my 
 head raised up in the boiler." 
 
 " You will smother." 
 
 " No ; the top is just above the surface of the 
 water. But I can tip it a little when I need ven- 
 tilation." 
 
 But at that moment a bullet whistled unpleas- 
 antly near my head, and I " ducked " under the 
 bank of the canal. It was fired by the pickets on 
 the other side. Phil left me, and in a few moments 
 I saw the French battery dashing towards the 
 river. 
 
THE STEUGGLES OF A SOLDIEE. 273 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY TAKE PART IN THE BAT- 
 TLE OP MAGENTA, AND VISIT MILAN. 
 
 S soon as Larry had started the battery to- 
 wards the river, he returned to the canal to 
 assist me in moving off my aquatic machine. Be- 
 fore he joined me, the French cannon were waking 
 up the Austrians on the other side. From the 
 earth-works opposite a sharp fire was opened. A 
 company of French riflemen swept the bank of the 
 river at the same time, and the place was alto- 
 gether too hot for the pickets. I saw them re- 
 treating from the shelter of the willows near the 
 river, and the way was thus prepared for my at- 
 tempt. 
 
 " I am all ready, Larry," said I. " The coast is 
 as clear as it will be." 
 
 " I'm afraid those Dutchmen will gobble you up 
 as soon as you land," he replied, anxiously. 
 18 
 
274 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " No, I think not. At any rate, I shall do the 
 best I can to keep out of their way." 
 
 " But I must go over and take care of you." 
 
 " Don't you think I can take care of myself? " 
 
 " I doubt it." 
 
 " I have seen more of this sort of thing than 
 you have, Larry, and, now I am in it, I feel quite 
 at home." 
 
 " That Indian skirmishing again ! " laughed he. 
 
 " It was hotter than anything we have seen here 
 yet." 
 
 " Perhaps it was. But I must go with you, 
 Phil." 
 
 " No, you stay here. I should have to take care 
 of you besides myself, if you went." 
 
 " Good, Phil ! The lamb is becoming a lion ; 
 but I am a first-class tiger, and I feel moved to go 
 with you. I should never forgive myself if you 
 should be killed instead of me. You have a 
 mother — " 
 
 " And you have a grandfather," I interposed, as 
 I prepared to put my head inside of the soup- 
 boiler. 
 
 " Never mind him. One good turn deserves 
 another, and I shall leave him to take care of him- 
 self, as he did me." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 275 
 
 " I dare say your ' taking off ' would oblige your 
 cousin Miles very much." 
 
 " I'm not going to be taken off to oblige him. 
 There is room for two heads in that big kettle." 
 
 " Room for the heads, but not for the shoulders 
 under them. I have to swim, Larry, and tAvo of 
 us could do nothing in such close quarters. Be- 
 sides, my dear fellow, I want you to stay on the 
 shore here, and see that nothing goes wrong with 
 me. Keep out of sight, and make no sign, or you 
 will betray me. If you see any chance to help me, 
 do so ; but remember that discretion is the better 
 part of valor in a situation like this." 
 
 " Good by, Phil, if we never meet again, for you 
 are going into the lion's den, and he will bite your 
 head off, all because I am not with you to take care 
 of you. I didn't think you could be so obstinate." 
 
 " Adieu for the present, Larry. Keep your eye 
 on me as long as you can, but don't show j-ourself." 
 
 I lay down in the water, and raised my head 
 under the soup-kettle. The water was about up 
 to my middle, and I was obliged to stoop under my 
 armor. The rim of the boiler was not an inch 
 above the surface of the water, but this space was 
 enough to afford me a supply of air, and to enable 
 
276 BIYOUAC AND BATTLE, OB 
 
 ine to see my course over the stream. Grasping 
 the frame on which my head-armor rested, I pushed 
 off. The depth of the river gradually increased as 
 1 advanced, and I was soon obliged to swim. As 
 there was little or no current, I had no difficulty in 
 propelling the machine ; but I was careful to make 
 no swash in the water that would attract the at- 
 tention of the enemy. My hands were placed on 
 one of the boards I had nailed across the joists ; 
 and I found that my weight quite submerged the 
 boiler in front of me, so that I could not see 
 ahead; but the part behind me was above the 
 water, so that I did not want for air. 
 
 " Starboard ! " said Larry, in a voice loud 
 enough for me to hear. 
 
 Shifting my weight to the after part of the ma- 
 chine, so as to permit the kettle to rise in front of 
 me, I saw that I was headed directly down the 
 stream, towards the battery, which was belching 
 forth fire, smoke, and grape-shot. Changing my 
 course, I propelled the machine with my feet. 
 The river was not wide, and in a few moments I 
 found I could touch bottom with my feet. Thus 
 far not a shot from the shore had struck the kettle, 
 and I concluded that the enemy had been so much 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 277 
 
 occupied with the battery as not to notice me. 
 Wading slowly in towards the Lombardian shore, 
 I crowded my machine in among the willows 
 which covered the bank. Resting from my vio- 
 lent exertions, — for I had worked hard in propel- 
 ling the huge boiler over the river, — I listened 
 attentively for any sounds that denoted the near 
 presence of the Austrians. I could hear nothing 
 but the roar of the artillery, still engaged in the 
 duel across the stream, and I ventured to crawl 
 out from beneath my armor. 
 
 Keeping my head behind the kettle, I attempted 
 to peer through the willows. I could see nothing 
 of the enemy in this direction, though an occa- 
 sional shell exploded just below me, and I could 
 hear the rattle of grape-shot among the trees, be- 
 tween me and the earth-works. While I was thus 
 examining the ground over which I wished to ad- 
 vance, I heard a noise in the water, which caused 
 me to turn around. There in the river, and half 
 way across, was Larry, swimming lustily towards 
 me, without the shelter of a soup-boiler, or any 
 other protective apparatus. For an instant I 
 trembled for him ; but when I considered that not 
 a shot had been fired at the moving boiler, and 
 
278 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 that the pickets had been driven back by the fire 
 of the artillery, I could hardly keep from laughing 
 at the pains I had taken to secure a safe passage. 
 With strong and lusty strokes Larry rapidly ap- 
 proached me, and was soon within easy speaking 
 distance of me. 
 
 " What are you about, Larry ? " I asked, when 
 he ceased to swim, and began to wade towards me. 
 
 " About my own business and that of the French 
 army," replied he, puffing with his exertions. 
 
 " Are you mad?" 
 
 " Never was in better humor in my life." 
 
 " Duck under, Larry, or some of the Austrians 
 will see you," I called, earnestly. 
 
 '" Don't be alarmed, Phil. 1 helped to put a 
 head on you, and I have no notion of losing my 
 own. There isn't an Austrian within a quarter of 
 a mile of you," he answered, walking erect in the 
 water towards me. " But why stand ye here all 
 the day idle ? " 
 
 " I was just feeling my way up to the shore. I 
 am provoked with you, Larry. Why did you 
 come over ? " 
 
 " My conscience reproached me for permitting a 
 youth like you to come over here without any one 
 to protect you." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 279 
 
 " I am sorry you have come." 
 
 " That's complimentary, and I suppose my com- 
 pany is not agreeable." 
 
 " On the present occasion it is not." 
 
 " You are selfish, Phil. You wish to do a big 
 thing all alone by yourself, and are afraid you will 
 be robbed of a share of the glory." 
 
 " You know better, Larry." 
 
 " Then don't quarrel with me. You made such 
 a row about coming over here under that old soup- 
 pot, that I thought it was really a dangerous enter- 
 prise ; but it is only child's play. Come, Phil, are 
 you going to march on the Austrians? " he rattled 
 on, so lightly that I was quite ashamed of my 
 prudent measures. " Lead on ; you shall boss the 
 job, and I will follow you." 
 
 " All right ; but you must do as I do, or you will 
 not only imperil your own head, but mine." 
 
 " Right ! You shall keep your head, and I will 
 keep mine." 
 
 I crept out of the bushes, and throwing myself 
 upon the ground, crawled to a ditch, used to irri- 
 gate the country. On one side of it was the usual 
 row of mulberries, behind which we walked a 
 short distance ; but, as the water would not run 
 
280 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 up hill, we weare forced to leave it in order to 
 ascend the slope on which stood the tall tree. 
 Several rows of mulberries extended up the de- 
 clivity, and between the trees were lines of grape 
 vines, whose luxuriant foliage afforded us a par- 
 tial protection. Creeping on the ground, we soon 
 reached the summit of the slope. Around us the 
 ground was ploughed with shot and shell, and 
 many of the trees were splintered ; but the fire in 
 this direction had been suspended, for the general 
 knew where we were expected to be. The firing 
 had driven back the pickets, and we could not yet 
 even see them. 
 
 " Your plan has worked first rate, Phil," said my 
 friend, as we paused on the rising ground to take 
 an observation. 
 
 " All but the soup-kettle, which was superflu- 
 ous," I replied, vexed at tbe coolness and indiffer- 
 ence my companion had displayed. 
 
 " Not at all, my good fellow. If a single shot 
 had hit your ark, of course I should not have dared 
 to cross the river. The soup-kettle was a tip-top 
 idea to feel your way with ; but of course, after you 
 had proved that there was not a picket within half 
 a mile, it was not needed. It is scarcely necessary 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 281 
 
 for me to insinuate that I do not undervalue your 
 ark of safety. No pickets in sight yet." 
 
 " No ; but I must climb that tree. From the top 
 of it I can see over the mulberries, and cover the 
 country for miles." 
 
 On the summit of the slope the ground was 
 planted with Indian corn, which was high enough 
 to afford us all the shelter we needed. We crawled 
 in the rows across several of the spaces between 
 the lines of mulberries, till we reached the tree. 
 There was not a branch on its trunk within seven- 
 ty-five feet of the ground, and it was no easy job 
 to climb it. 
 
 " There you are ! Crawl up, my mud-turtle," 
 said Larry, glancing at me. 
 
 Of course I could not swim the river without 
 wetting my clothes, and as I crawled through the 
 cornfield the soil had clung to my dripping gar- 
 ments till I well deserved the appellation which 
 my companion had applied to me. But Larry was 
 in no better condition. 
 
 " I am all ready, fellow-worm of the earth ; but 
 you must crawl over to the edge of the cornfield, 
 so as to give me timely notice of the approach of 
 the enemy, while I crawl up the tree." 
 
282 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Right ! we are a wormy couple. Crawl away." 
 My friend made his way to the point indicated, 
 and I commenced my difficult undertaking. For- 
 tunately, the tree was of the spindling kind, and 
 its diameter did not at all correspond to its 
 height. Even when my arms and legs were far 
 shorter than now, I had climbed tall cotton-woods, 
 and the experience I had acquired enabled me to 
 accomplish my purpose. I was obliged frequently 
 to pause and rest ; but in less than half an hour I 
 had ascended as far as it was safe to go. I had a 
 full view of the country in every direction. The 
 battle was still raging above us at BufTalora and 
 other points. Vast volumes of smoke were rising 
 from the battle-field, and the roar of artillery seemed 
 to shake the earth beneath me. I turned to the 
 country behind the slope. I distinctly saw several 
 columns of infantry and artillery moving hurriedly 
 towards Magenta. A large portion of them had 
 been posted behind the earth-works, to repel an 
 advance in this direction. I had ascertained what 
 General Eberle desired to know — that the troops 
 behind the battery had been withdrawn. The 
 Austrians were hard pressed by the Imperial 
 Guard, and were obliged to reenforce their columns 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 283 
 
 by bringing up the troops which had protected 
 their left. I made the signal with my handker- 
 chief, repeating it till I saw the pontoon train dash 
 down to the river's side. The French artillery 
 poured shot and shell into the earth-works with 
 tremendous rapidity, in order to cover the opera- 
 tions of the pontoon engineers. In a very short 
 time the bridge was completed. A regiment of 
 Zouaves went over on the run, and, without stopping 
 to fire a volley, or even a single shot, rushed upon 
 the earth-works, carrying them in the twinkling of 
 an eye. As the artillery-men retreated, their own 
 guns were turned upon them. I saw the picket 
 line which had been driven back from the river re- 
 tire upon the main body. The field was clear, and 
 our brigade released from its late inactivity. I 
 descended from my high position, and found Larry 
 at the foot of the tree. 
 
 " How's that for high ? " said he. 
 
 " First rate. The Austrians have all left this 
 vicinity, and our work is done. I want my coat 
 and cap." 
 
 As we walked towards the pontoon bridge, we 
 met the general. 
 
 " You have done ze business very nice. You 
 
284: BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 have help us very much. You have done one 
 grand thing ! " exclaimed he, grasping my hand. 
 
 " It was very easily done," I replied. " My 
 friend swam over without any soup-kettle." 
 
 " Only after Phil had proved that there was no 
 danger." 
 
 Our servant had brought over our clothes and 
 baggage, and our horses were waiting near the 
 bridge. We washed ourselves in the river, and 
 put on clean shirts. Mounting our steeds, we 
 overtook the brigade, and took our places near the 
 general. The column was marching towards Ma- 
 genta, where the heaviest of the fighting was now 
 going on. Near a farm-house on the way we were 
 confronted by a force of Austrians, and a sharp 
 skirmish took place. I found myself in the midst 
 of it, with bullets whistling about my head. The 
 general gave me an order to deliver to a colonel, 
 and I hastened to obey. I soon became interested 
 in the business, and as zealous as any one on the 
 field. In delivering another order, I found myself, 
 by a sudden movement of the Austrians, directly' 
 in front of them ; my horse dropped under me, and 
 one of my struggles as a soldier was to get my leg 
 out from beneath him. 
 
 All the rest of that day was a hot struggle. We 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 285 
 
 drove the Austrians before us at last, and entered 
 the village of Magenta. We took the place house 
 by house, and street by street. Ail was fury and 
 excitement ; but it was victory — hard-won victory. 
 Larry was as wild as any Frenchman on the field, 
 and, when sent to execute an order, finding the 
 officer in command of the battalion killed, he led 
 the column himself, and made a fierce charge with 
 it. Both of us were repeatedly commended by our 
 friend the general. 
 
 The day at Magenta was won, and that night I 
 saw the emperor and the king of Italy. I was 
 utterly exhausted when the work was done, and 
 while the entire plain was ringing with cheers, I 
 went to sleep. 
 
 The next day, and the next, we marched. The 
 allied army entered Milan. The two sovereigns 
 were received with acclamations. Our brigade 
 was encamped on the outskirts of the city. As 
 soon as we could obtain leave, we hastened to the 
 Corso di Bosinare. I found the office of Signor 
 Bertani, and ascertained where his residence was. 
 Taking a carriage, we hastened thither. It was 
 quite near our camp. 
 
 I was admitted, and in a few minutes I stood in 
 the presence of my mother. 
 
286 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL IS IDENTIFIED BY HIS MOTHER, AND 
 LARRY GOES TO ENGLAND. 
 
 STOOD before my mother. I trembled with 
 emotion. For years I had been looking for- 
 ward to this moment with bounding anticipations. 
 It had seemed to me that all the joys of earthly 
 life were concentrated in this instant. Like a 
 little child, I had longed and sighed for my mother. 
 I could not speak ; I could only look at her. I could 
 see in her face, which was more beautiful to me 
 than that of the fairest maiden I had ever beheld, 
 the expression and every feature of the picture in 
 my possession. 
 
 But I could not forget that my identity had not 
 yet been acknowledged. In the room were Mr. 
 Joseph Collingsby and his invalid wife. Perhaps 
 I should be spurned here, as I had been in Chicago, 
 when I attempted to claim my birthright. The 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 287 
 
 events of the past rushed through my mind with 
 electric rapidity, and I tried to connect the past 
 with the present. I gazed at the lady before me 
 with tremulous anxiety. I saw that she was 
 regarding me with equal earnestness. I tried to 
 speak, but I could not, and we stood gazing at 
 each other in silence. 
 
 At the door I had simply inquired for Mr. Col- 
 lingsby ; but as the Italian servant did not speak 
 French, I could do nothing more than mention the 
 name. It appeared that the party were expecting 
 the arrival of two English gentlemen, with whom 
 they desired to make the journey into Switzer- 
 land ; and we were taken to be those persons, and 
 admitted without ceremony. 
 
 " You wish to see me ? " said Mr. Collingsby to 
 Larry Grimsby. 
 
 " No, sir ; my friend desires to see Mrs. Far- 
 ringford." 
 
 " What is your friend's name ? " 
 
 " Philip Farringfordt" 
 
 I heard this, and my mother heard it, while we 
 were still regarding each other. Suddenly the 
 lady threw herself upon my neek, and kissed me 
 on the cheek. I felt her hot tears upon my face, 
 
288 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 and I felt that I was recognized without any ex- 
 hibition of the evidence. I kissed her in return. 
 
 " Louise ! " said Mr. Collingsby, sternly. 
 
 She gently disengaged herself from me, and 
 taking one of my hands in hers, she looked at her 
 brother. 
 
 " Well, Joseph ? " she replied, struggling with 
 her emotions. 
 
 " I must beg you to be cautious." 
 
 " This is my son ! " exclaimed she, grasping my 
 other^ hand also, and gazing at me again with the 
 most intense earnestness. 
 
 " Father and Richard have both warned you 
 against this person," said Mr. Collingsby, coldly. 
 
 I must explain what afterwards came to my 
 knowledge. My mother had been told that her 
 husband had acknowledged a young man as his 
 son ; but her father's family in Chicago believed 
 that it was a trick to obtain a portion of the old 
 man's property. She had been informed that I 
 was on the way to Europe, and cautioned to repel 
 the imposition if I came into her presence. It was 
 only by accident that I was admitted to her 
 presence — an accident made possible only by the 
 alarms of war. The party had been trying for 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 289 
 
 several weeks to get into Switzerland ; but Mr. 
 Collingsby was a timid man, and dared not under- 
 take the journey in the troubled state of the 
 country. They were in daily expectation of the 
 arrival of the two English gentlemen who were to 
 accompany them, and doubtless Mr. Collingsby 
 was very much disappointed when* the visitors 
 proved to be other persons. 
 
 " Joseph, I know him," said my mother : and she 
 smiled through her tears. 
 
 " This is absurd, Louise. Your child was lost 
 when he was only two years old." 
 
 "But I know his expression, and I know 
 every lineament of his face. It is my boy — I 
 know it ! " 
 
 " It is ridiculous, Louise." 
 
 " I ask for no evidence whatever but his face. 
 It is exactly the same as when he last looked 
 upon me," added my mother, still gazing earnest- 
 ly at me. 
 
 " I will not permit this imposition," protested 
 Mr. Collingsby. 
 
 " I know my own child, and I shall cling to him 
 while I have life." 
 
 " Right ! That's the style," whispered Larry. 
 19 
 
290 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Mr. Collingsby, neither your father nor your 
 brother would ever listen to what my father or I 
 had to say on this subject. I offered to present 
 the evidence to them, but they declined to hear 
 me." 
 
 " It was too absurd to be listened to." 
 
 " Reasonable people do not judge until after 
 they have heard," I replied. 
 
 " But the whole story is ridiculous on the face 
 of it." 
 
 " Sit down, Philip, and tell me all about it," said 
 my mother, leading me to a sofa. 
 
 " Not here," interposed Mr. Collingsby. 
 
 " Then I will go with you, Philip, to your 
 hotel." 
 
 " Are you crazy, Louise ? " demanded her 
 brother. 
 
 " Will you hear what my son has to say ? " 
 
 " No, I will not. It is all a trick of his drunken 
 father," said Mr. Collingsby, angrily. 
 
 " My father is a sober, industrious, Christian 
 man. He does not ask a dollar or a penny of any 
 Collingsby. He is able to support his family, and 
 asks no favors of any one. I know that he has not 
 drank a drop of intoxicating liquor for two years," 
 I replied, warmly. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 291 
 
 " Joseph, this is my son. If you repel him, you 
 repel me. Where he goes I will go. I have 
 nothing more to say," added my mother, with 
 quiet dignity, as she threw her arm around my 
 neck. 
 
 " I am sorry that the warnings of father and 
 Richard have had no effect upon you," said he, 
 more calmly, when he saw that his violence was 
 complicating the matter. 
 
 " Until I saw Philip I believed that it was an 
 imposition ; now I know that it is not. This is my 
 son. I cannot be mistaken," replied my mother. 
 
 u I think, sir, that if you will hear me, I can 
 convince you." 
 
 " Not now ; another time," he answered, testily. 
 
 " I am not quite prepared at the present time 
 myself to exhibit all the evidence," I added. " If 
 you will name a time, you will oblige me." 
 
 " To morrow, at ten o'clock," said Mr. Col- 
 lingsby. 
 
 " I have sent to Genoa for my trunk, and expect 
 it to-day. If it comes I shall be able to satisfy 
 you, I think." 
 
 " But you must not leave me for a moment, 
 Philip," said my mother. 
 
292 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 il I am a volunteer aid in the French array, on 
 the staff of General Eberle, mother." 
 
 " You ? » 
 
 " I was in the battle of Magenta." 
 
 " 0, Philip ! — how could you — " 
 
 " But I will resign at once." 
 
 " Then I must," added Larry. " But I will go 
 over to the camp. If your trunk has come, shall I 
 send it over here ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," I replied. 
 
 " Yes, send it," interposed my mother. " And 
 your own also, if you are the friend of my son." 
 
 " But, Louise," interposed Mr. Collingsby. 
 
 " If my son is not welcome here, I cannot be. I 
 will go to a hotel with him then. He shall not 
 leave me," said my mother. 
 
 " I cannot trespass upon the hospitality of stran- 
 gers," I interposed. " I must go to the camp, 
 mother, in order to resign my position." 
 
 " If you leave me, I am afraid I shall never see 
 you again. I will go with you to the camp," 
 added my mother. 
 
 Mr. Collingsby protested. He was evidently 
 disgusted, and only wished to get me out of the 
 way. Signora Bertani appeared, and invited both 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 293 
 
 Larry and me to make her house our home. We 
 did not accept, though we staid there till after 
 dinner. Then we went to the camp, resigned our 
 positions on the staff, and bade farewell to our 
 comrades in arms, who were very kind to us. 
 The general expressed his regret at parting with 
 us, and offered to serve us in any way he could. 
 He gave each of us a testimonial, and obtained for 
 us a safe-conduct at headquarters, which would 
 enable us to pass any army lines, and which would 
 procure any assistance that we might require. 
 My trunk had arrived, and we went to the Hotel 
 Marino. 
 
 We returned to the residence of Signor Bertani. 
 My mother embraced me as I entered, and said 
 that the hour I had been absent was an age to her. 
 I exhibited my testimonial and our safe-conduct, 
 and translated them into English, for Mr. Col- 
 lingsby knew hardly a word of French. The doc- 
 ument attracted his attention, for we could pass 
 his party through into Switzerland. He was more 
 considerate towards me then, for he was very anx- 
 ious to escape from Italy and the confusion of the 
 war. I staid till a late hour, and then went to the 
 hotel. 
 
294 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 The next morning, with the relics of my child- 
 hood, I hastened to the Bertanis. Mr. Collingsby 
 was not inclined to hear me, but he could not 
 avoid it without driving my mother and me from 
 the house. 
 
 " Now, Philip, I want you to tell the whole 
 story," said my mother, who was seated at my 
 side, holding my hand. 
 
 " I am afraid it will take me two or three hours/' 
 I replied. 
 
 " No matter if it takes all day." 
 
 I related my story from beginning to end, and 
 it was lunch time when I finished. 
 
 " That is a very good story ; but there is noth- 
 ing at all in it to convince anybody that you are 
 my sister's son," said Mr. Collingsby, after we re- 
 turned from the dining-room. 
 
 " I am aware of it — the evidence is yet to be 
 presented. When I was discovered by Matt Rock- 
 wood, certain articles were found upon me." 
 
 " You were wrapped in a shawl. How well I 
 remember it ! " said my mother. 
 
 " Here is the shawl," I added, taking it from the 
 bundle at my side. 
 
 " It is the same one ! " exclaimed my mother. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 295 
 
 I produced the little dress, and the bracelets 
 with which the sleeves had been looped up, which 
 were promptly identified. 
 
 " This locket was hung upon my neck," I con- 
 tinued. 
 
 " You gave this locket to the child yourself, 
 Joseph," said my mother, opening it. " Here is 
 the picture painted by Schmidt." 
 
 Mr. Collingsby examined it, and admitted that 
 the locket was the one he had given me. 
 
 "But where did you get these things, young 
 man ? " 
 
 " They were found upon me when I was picked 
 up by Matt Rockwood." 
 
 He suggested the same objections that others 
 had presented. The relics were good evidence as 
 far as they went, but they did not identify me. 
 
 " But I identify him," interposed my mother. 
 " Could I look into his little face every day, all 
 day long, for two years, and not know him again ? 
 After I lost him, I still saw him, and his image has 
 never passed out of my heart. I can see him now 
 as he was then." 
 
 " Was there any mark upon him, Louise, such as 
 is discovered upon the foundlings and the long-lost 
 sons in the novels ? " laughed Mr. Collingsby. 
 
296 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OB 
 
 " Not a mark," I replied. 
 
 " Yes, he had a mole on the back of his neck ; 
 but that may be gone now," added my mother, 
 drawing down my head, and examining the part 
 indicated. " But I should not be any better satis- 
 fied if I found a dozen marks which I had seen 
 upon the child. There it is — larger than it was, 
 but in the same place." 
 
 " I give it up," said Mr. Collingsby, when he hftd 
 examined the mole. " Give me your hand, Philip. 
 You are my nephew, without doubt. But it is a 
 strange story, and you must excuse my incre- 
 dulity." 
 
 " I don't blame you at all, uncle Joseph." 
 
 " Now, can you get us out of Italy ? " asked my 
 uncle ; and perhaps his desire to escape from 
 war's alarms had no little influence in convincing 
 him that I was his nephew. 
 
 " Certainly I can. You shall start to-day, if you 
 please." 
 
 " To-morrow will do." 
 
 We made the arrangements for the journey at 
 once. 
 
 " Now tell me about your father," said my 
 mother. " Is he entirely changed ? " 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 297 
 
 " Entirely, mother ; and I am sure that he will 
 never drink another drop as long as he lives." 
 
 " Thank God ! " 
 
 " I hope you will forgive him, mother." 
 
 " With all my heart, if he is changed. We may 
 be happy yet ; but 0, what a waste of misery 
 there is behind me ! " 
 
 " Never mind the past, mother ; let us think 
 only of the future." 
 
 " You are right, Philip. I can hardly believe 
 that I am the mother of such a manly boy as you 
 are — so brave and daring, too. But I do believe 
 it, and this fact is happiness enough for the future. 
 I should be content to live in a hovel now." 
 
 " There will be no need of that, for father has a 
 salary of three thousand dollars, and I am good for 
 a thousand more," I added. 
 
 " But I am afraid we cannot go home at present, 
 for Joseph's wife is very feeble, and I cannot leave 
 her. I wish your father could come over and 
 join us." 
 
 " That is impossible, for he has the care of Mr. 
 Rockwood's property in St. Louis, and cannot 
 leave. I shall write to him to-day, and send the 
 good news." 
 
298 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 At a late hour in the evening I went to the 
 hotel, and wrote a long letter to my father. The 
 next day we went by easy stages in a private car- 
 riage to Sesto, at the foot of Lake Maggiore. Our 
 safe-conduct enabled us to pass without difficulty, 
 and procured for us the best accommodations on 
 the road. The health of Mrs. Collingsby was so 
 feeble that we used up a week in travelling to 
 Lucerne. By this time I was on excellent terms 
 with my uncle. I took charge of the details of the 
 journey, which my knowledge of French enabled 
 me to do better than he could. Larry and I had 
 written to our banker in Paris to forward our let- 
 ters to Lucerne. There was one for my friend, 
 and several for me. 
 
 " I must go at once, Phil," said Larry, after he 
 had opened his letter. 
 
 " Why ? what's the matter ? " 
 
 " ' Come home at once, you dog, or you will 
 never again see me alive,' " replied Larry, reading 
 from his letter. " And it was written a week ago. 
 I must not lose a moment." 
 
 " But I don't see how I can go with you, 
 Larry." 
 
 " I must go alone, then. My grandfather may 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 299 
 
 be dead now. He is a jolly old fellow, and I hope 
 he won't slip off this time." 
 
 " I hope not. You must look out for Miles 
 Grimsby : he means harm to you." 
 
 " Confound him ! I don't care what he means. 
 There will be a coldness between us now, since I 
 have discovered his game — that is all:" 
 
 " Cuore is still in the hospital, and the last I 
 heard of him he was getting better ; but be pru- 
 dent, Larry, and don't make any friends on the 
 way. I wish I were going with you." 
 
 " I wish you were, my boy ; but you must write 
 every day, and I will do the same, if it is only a 
 single line." 
 
 " I will, Larry ; and I shall miss you very 
 much." 
 
 " But you have your mother now." 
 
 " Thank God, I have." 
 
 He was off that night, after bidding us an affec- 
 tionate adieu. We missed him very much, for he 
 was always full of life and fun. 
 
300 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL REMONSTRATES WITH LARRY, WHO 
 DECIDES TO GO UP IN A BALLOON. 
 
 EMOVED from the din and excitement of 
 war, Mrs. Collingsby's health improved. We 
 went to Carlsbad, whose waters had a very salu- 
 tary effect upon her ; and she was so much better 
 that my mother and I made several journeys to 
 places of interest in the interior of Europe, as 
 Berlin, Dresden, Vienna, Frankfort, Cologne, Ham- 
 burg, and Baden-Baden. The war ended with 
 the battle of Solferino and the treaty of Villa- 
 Franca. 
 
 I had frequent letters from Larry. Sir Philip 
 Grimsby was not dead when his grandson arrived, 
 though he was very feeble. Miles was utterly 
 confounded at the return of my friend, who be- 
 came a great favorite with the baronet. In Oc- 
 tober, while we were still at Carlsbad, Larry 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 301 
 
 wrote me that Sir Philip was nearly restored in 
 health, and consented to his absence for a few 
 weeks. I had scarcely received the letter before 
 my friend arrived. We almost hugged each other 
 in the mutual delight of meeting again. He was 
 cordially welcomed by my mother and my uncle. 
 
 " Tell me about Grimsby Hall, Larry. How is 
 your grandfather?'' I said, when we were by 
 ourselves. 
 
 "He is better; but I think he is failing, on 
 the whole. His constitution seems to be bro- 
 ken, and another stroke of apoplexy will finish 
 him. But he is a jolly old fellow." 
 
 " And how is Miles ? " 
 
 " I didn't see much of him. Miles has taken 
 to yachting, and is spending piles of money on 
 his boat." 
 
 " I didn't think he had wit enough to appre- 
 ciate a yacht." 
 
 " I don't know about that ; but he is com- 
 pletely absorbed in his craft, and says he shall 
 go to America in her next season." 
 
 " How big is his yacht?" 
 
 " About a hundred tons, I saw by a report of 
 a sailing match, in which she took the second 
 prize." 
 
302 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 "I wouldn't be Miles Grimsby for all the 
 yachts that ever floated; but I envy him the 
 pleasure of such an amusement. There is noth- 
 ing like it, to my mind. I should like to make 
 a trip around Europe, stopping a week or so in 
 places of interest on the way. But I shall 
 never have the means to do anything of that 
 kind." 
 
 " I shall, Phil, for my grandfather allows me 
 just the same as Miles has — ten thousand pounds 
 a year ; and when either of us wishes to buy a 
 yacht, a pair of horses, or a house, he is willing 
 to come down with an extra ten thousand or so. 
 I rather like the idea of a voyage in a yacht, 
 and we will talk it over." 
 
 " Of course I don't expect you to buy a yacht 
 for my benefit." 
 
 " I shall enjoy it as much as you, Phil." 
 
 " You say that Blanche is well and happy." 
 
 " I said she was well — not happy. I don't 
 think she is happy. I didn't tell you that we 
 are engaged, but it is so." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " Fact ; and we were engaged before the 
 baronet acknowledged me as his grandson." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 303 
 
 "Then you are publicly acknowledged." 
 
 " Not very publicly — only to a dozen or so ; 
 and it hadn't got into the newspapers when I 
 left England, so far as I know." 
 
 " If you and Blanche are engaged, I should 
 think she would be happy," I suggested. 
 
 " So far as our engagement is concerned, I 
 think she is happy. But Grimsby Hall is not a 
 pleasant place for her to live. Uncle Miles is 
 only one step from lunacy, and he makes the 
 house very uncomfortable. They say his brain 
 is softening ; but I don't believe he ever had any 
 brains to soften. Once in a while he has a tan- 
 trum, and makes the house too hot for the family. 
 I had to take him by the collar one night, when 
 he insisted upon turning his wife out of doors. 
 But he is simply stupid most of the time, and 
 they think of sending him to an asylum. But 
 what are you going to do, Phil?" 
 
 " I hardly know." 
 
 " Shall you go home this fall? " 
 
 " If Mrs. Collingsby's health will permit, we 
 shall." 
 
 " By the way, I think I saw Cuore in London," 
 continued Larry. 
 
304 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 " Not at all impossible. The last we heard of 
 him in the hospital, he was better." 
 
 "Where did you see him?" 
 
 " In the railroad station, as I was leaving for 
 Paris. He seemed to have an eye on me, but 
 when I made for him, he disappeared. In Paris 
 I kept both eyes open, for I fancied that the 
 rascal was dogging my steps. Miles was up at 
 the Hall the Sunday before I left, and knew 
 where I was going. Several times, when the 
 train stopped between here and Paris, I looked 
 into every compartment of the carriages, and 
 examined the face of every passenger : but I did 
 not see Cuore." 
 
 " Did you say anything to Miles about him ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 " Not a word ; nor to Sir Philip. I don't think 
 the old man likes Miles, though he treats him with 
 a show of affection, and all that sort of thing." 
 
 " But you don't think Miles will attempt to 
 repeat the experiment he tried before ? " 
 
 " I don't know why he should not, for I still 
 stand between him and his expectations. But he 
 was very pleasant to me, and invited me to sail 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 305 
 
 with him in his yacht. I was afraid I might fall 
 overboard if I did ; so I declined," laughed Larry. 
 " I shall keep my eyes open. I hope you are not 
 going to stay here long, Phil. It's a stupid place." 
 
 I should have thought so myself if my mother 
 had not been with me. We were never tired of be- 
 ing together, and of talking of the past. Mrs. Col- 
 lingsby was so much better that it was decided to 
 return to America. We went to Leipsic, and 
 found the city crowded with people, in attendance 
 upon a great festival. With difficulty we obtained 
 rooms at the Hotel de Pologne. In the evening 
 Larry and I went to the great garden, which was 
 crowded with visitors, drinking beer and listening 
 to the music. We seated ourselves at a table, and 
 drank coffee. 
 
 " There he is ! " exclaimed Larry, pointing to- 
 wards the kiosk in which the musicians played. 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Cuore." 
 
 Larry leaped to his feet, and moved in the direc- 
 tion he had pointed ; but the surging crowd came 
 between us and the man we were seeking. 
 
 " He is gone," said Larry. " He sat at this table. 
 There is his beer, not finished." 
 20 
 
306 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Are you sure it was he ? I did not see him." 
 
 " I am pretty sure it was he, though he was not 
 dressed as when we saw him before/' 
 
 " Perhaps you are mistaken." 
 
 " I may be, but I don't think I am. If it was not 
 he, why should he dodge so suddenly when I 
 moved this way ? " 
 
 " Possibly you are right." 
 
 " I know the rascal's face too well to be mis- 
 taken. The moment he caught my eye, he turned 
 away." 
 
 We returned to our table and drank the coffee 
 which was waiting for us. We walked all over 
 the garden in search of Cuore, but were unable to 
 find him. I came to the conclusion that my friend 
 had been mistaken in the identity of the person he 
 supposed to be his enemy. 
 
 " Can you read that, Phil ? " asked Larry, as he 
 paused before a handbill on which was the picture 
 of a balloon. 
 
 " Not a word of it," I replied. " But evidently 
 there is to be a balloon ascension here." 
 " Did you ever go up in a balloon, Phil ? " 
 " Of course I never did." 
 "Of course you would like to do so." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 307 
 
 " No ; I don't believe in exposing myself to dan- 
 ger in that way." 
 
 " Ton my word, there is no danger in it," 
 laughed Larry. "Did you ever hear of a man 
 being killed in a balloon?" 
 
 " I have heard of people being killed by falling 
 out of them." 
 
 " Did you ever hear of a person being killed by 
 falling out of a carriage ? " 
 
 " Certainly I have." 
 
 " Then it is dangerous to ride in a carriage." 
 
 " That is sophistry, not argument, Larry." 
 
 " I am no philosopher, as you are, learned Phil. 
 I don't know that I ever heard of anybody being 
 killed by an accident to a balloon, except a woman 
 in France, when the thing was blown up by a sky- 
 rocket, or something of that sort. If I could get a 
 chance to go up, even by paying a hundred dollars 
 or so, I should go up. It would be a new sensa- 
 tion." 
 
 "We went back to the hotel. In the office was 
 the balloon handbill. Larry shopped to look at it 
 again. 
 
 "Donnerstag. What's that, Phil?" said he, 
 spelling out a word on the bill. 
 
308 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " I haven't the least idea ; but I judge from the 
 date following it, that it is some day of the week." 
 
 " Exactly so. Donnerstag. If I wasn't a print- 
 er, I couldn't read even that." 
 
 " It means Thursday," said a dark-complexioned 
 gentleman, who had apparently paused to read the 
 bill. 
 
 " Thank you. That's to-morrow." 
 
 " Yes. You do not read German." 
 
 " Not a word of it," 
 
 " The balloon ascension is to take place to-mor- 
 row, at four o'clock in the afternoon," continued 
 the stranger. 
 
 " Fifty thalers ! " exclaimed Larry, reading from 
 the bill. " That is a pretty steep price for seeing 
 a balloon ascension." 
 
 " Steep? " queried the stranger. 
 
 " Very dear," explained Larry. 
 
 " Not for seeing it. Signor Bianchi, the aero- 
 naut, will take two gentlemen with him, as passen- 
 gers, for fifty thalers each." 
 
 " Cheap enough. I should like to see Signor 
 Bianchi." 
 
 " Should you ? " 
 
 "Are his passengers engaged yet?" 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 309 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then I should like to see him. Does he speak 
 English ? " 
 
 " Perfectly," replied the stranger, smiling. " As 
 well as I do." 
 
 " That's well enough." 
 
 " Will you see him ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " You don't really think of going up in a balloon, 
 Larry," I interposed. 
 
 " ' Pon my word, I do, if I get the chance ; and 
 I am willing to pay fifty thalers, cash down, for the 
 opportunity." 
 
 " Signor Bianchi is staying at this hotel," said 
 the stranger. 
 
 " I beg your pardon ; but are you an Italian ? " 
 asked Larry. 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " Perhaps you are Signor Bianchi." 
 
 " No ; but I travel all over Europe with him, 
 and sometimes make an ascension. If you desire 
 to go up in the balloon to-morrow, you shall have 
 a place." 
 
 " I will give you a final answer in half an hour 
 or so." 
 
310 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 The gentleman bowed, and left us. 
 
 " Don't think of such a thing, Larry," I en- 
 treated, when we were alone. " Don't risk your 
 neck for nothing." 
 
 " Not for nothing. I am to pay fifty thaler s for 
 the privilege of risking it, and I think it is cheap 
 at that." 
 
 " But it is folly." 
 
 " Certainly it is. But I am human. Phil, I 
 must go up in that balloon ; I can't help it. I al- 
 ways had a desire to do the thing. You remem- 
 ber there was one in Marseilles when we were 
 there. I was telling Cuore then — who said he 
 had been up five times — if I ever got a chance, I 
 should certainly go up." 
 
 " Don't you do it, Larry. This man is an Ital- 
 ian, too." 
 
 " No matter if he is. He is one of those bal- 
 loonists that travel over the country, and make 
 ascensions at fairs and festivals, and for the benefit 
 of beer gardens, and such places. I am afraid if I 
 lose this opportunity I shall never get another." 
 
 In vain I begged and pleaded with him ; he was 
 as obstinate as a mule. Mr. Collingsby and my 
 mother tried their eloquence upon him with no 
 better result. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 311 
 
 " I have concluded to go," said Larry, walking 
 up to the Italian, who was seated in the coffee- 
 room.. 
 
 tt Yery well, sir. I will give you a receipt for 
 fifty thalers." 
 
 " Are you the proprietor of the balloon ? " 
 
 " 1 am ; but I am not the gentleman who makes 
 the ascension to-morrow." 
 
 " You are not Signor Bianchi ? " 
 
 " No. I am Signor Cuore, his partner." 
 
 " Cuore ! " exclaimed Larry. 
 
 " Cuore, sir." 
 
 He certainly was not the villain of that name 
 whom we knew. 
 
 " Have you a brother ? " 
 
 " One in New York ; none here," replied the 
 balloonist. " I have lived five years in New York 
 myself." 
 
 " Where is Signor Bianchi ? " 
 
 " He has retired for the night." 
 
 ". I should rather like to see the man with whom 
 I am to go up." 
 
 " He has been quite sick for a week ; but he is 
 better. He may not be able to make the ascen- 
 sion to-morrow. If not, I shall go up in his place. 
 
312 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 If you wish to engage a seat in the car, I will give 
 you a receipt now, for we have other applications." 
 
 " I engage it here and now ; " and Larry took 
 the fifty thalers from his pocket-book. 
 
 " If you will give me your card, I will write the 
 receipt," added Cuore. 
 
 Larry wrote his name on a card, and the bal- 
 loonist made out the receipt in good English. 
 
 "Are there any other Italians in Leipsic ? " I 
 asked, when the business was finished. 
 
 " Plenty of them," replied Cuore. 
 
 " Do you know another of your name ? " 
 
 " Yes ; two of them. Cuore is a very common 
 name in Italy. One of them is a wine merchant, 
 and the other is a silk agent from Milan." 
 
 I described the Cuore in my own mind ; but the 
 Italian did not know him, or professed not to know 
 him. Larry was confident that he had seen our 
 evil genius in the garden. There was nothing 
 improbable in the supposition that the villain was 
 in Leipsic, and that he was following us wherever 
 we went. He was certainly in the employ of 
 Miles Grimsby. He had failed in his wicked pur- 
 pose once, but he might not a second or a third 
 time. I could not connect him in any manner 
 with the balloon ; but, then, his ways were dark. 
 
THE STEUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 313 
 
 " Larry, I beg of yon, as a favor, not to go up in 
 the balloon to-morrow,'' said I, as we went to our 
 room. 
 
 " Nonsense, Phil ! " 
 . " Cuore is in town, according to your statement; 
 and this balloon man is also a Cuore. There is 
 something wrong somewhere." 
 
 " Don't be a baby, Phil." 
 
 " I begin to see through the whole of it. Cuore 
 has been dogging you since you left London. He 
 knows — for you told him — that you intended to 
 go up in a balloon when you got a chance ; so he 
 has laid in with this man to take you up ; and he 
 will take care that you do not come down alive." 
 
 " If I don't, he won't," laughed Larry. " Don't 
 make bugbears, my dear Phil. Your brain is dis- 
 ordered. Go to sleep, and you will wake up bet- 
 ter in the morning. Adieu." 
 
 Larry was still obstinate, and I went to sleep. 
 
314 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL IS VERY ANXIOUS ABOUT LARRY, WHO 
 HAS A PERILOUS ADVENTURE IN THE BALLOON. 
 
 IN the morning letters for our party came, for- 
 warded by the banker. One had an ominous 
 black seal, and was addressed to Larry. I handed 
 it to him. 
 
 "You will not go up in the balloon to-day," I 
 said ; for I concluded that the letter announced the 
 death of Sir Philip Grimsby. 
 
 " Perhaps not," he replied ; and I saw that he 
 was deeply moved. " If my grandfather is dead, I 
 shall never cease to blame myself for leaving him, 
 even for a single day." 
 
 He opened the letter. The event of its coming 
 seemed to be something like a providence inter- 
 posing to prevent him from risking his life so fool- 
 hardily in the balloon. 
 
 " Thank God it is not my grandfather ! " ex- 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIEE. 315 
 
 claimed Larry; and I could see the feeling of 
 relief that found expression in his face. 
 
 "But who is it?" 
 
 " My uncle Miles. I have rather expected it. 
 Well, it is a mercy to him, and certainly to the 
 other members of the family, for he was of no use 
 or comfort to himself or anybody else. But this 
 letter is a week old, and the day of the funeral has 
 already gone by." 
 
 " Yet you will not go up in a balloon after 
 receiving such a letter," I suggested. 
 
 " Why not ? It is not a ball or a part} r ." 
 
 "But it is a frolic." 
 
 " Not at all. I go up in the balloon for the 
 same reason that I should visit a picture gallery 
 or a library — to improve my mind, to obtain 
 larger views of things in general." 
 
 My friend was determined to carry out his pur- 
 pose, and it was useless for me to labor any further 
 to dissuade him. At the appointed time we went 
 to the garden, where the balloon was already 
 inflated. There were thousands of spectators, 
 most of whom had probably never seen an ascen- 
 sion. The Cuore whom we had met at the hotel 
 requested Larry to take his seat in the car. 
 
316 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " Good by, Larry," said I, shaking his hand. 
 
 " Nonsense, Phil ! I shall be with you this 
 evening or to-morrow morning," replied he, light- 
 ly. " The only danger that I ever could see in 
 going up in a balloon was being carried out to 
 sea ; but that is impossible here, you know. I am 
 perfectly safe, in my own opinion." 
 
 " Of course I shall hope for the best. Have you 
 seen the man who is going up with you ? " 
 
 " Not yet." 
 
 " I expect him in a moment," interposed Cuore. 
 " As I told you, he is not very well, and I told 
 him not to come till four o'clock." 
 
 The crowd cheered and applauded when Larry 
 seated himself in the car. Twenty men held the 
 balloon by the netting, and it was permitted slow- 
 ly to rise till the car was lifted from the ground. 
 
 " Where is the other passenger ? " asked Larry. 
 
 " You will be the only one," replied Cuore. 
 " The gas is so poor, I find, that we cannot take 
 the second gentleman." 
 
 " All right. Then I shall have the fun all to 
 myself," added Larry. 
 
 " Here is Bianchi." 
 
 I turned to see the aeronaut. He was envel- 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 317 
 
 oped in a long overcoat, which extended down to 
 his ankles. It had a cowl, which was drawn over 
 his cap, so that he looked like a monk. He walked 
 directly to the car and leaped in. At the same 
 instant Cuore on the ground cut the single rope 
 that held the balloon. A wild cheer from the 
 crowd rent the air as it rose almost perpendicular- 
 ly. Bianchi waved a couple of flags, and the 
 multitude shouted again. I obtained a single 
 glance at the cowled head of the aeronaut after 
 he started. He seemed like a mysterious person- 
 age to me, so sudden and so singular had been his 
 coming, and so rapid his going. Larry was seated 
 in the bottom of the car, and I did not see his face 
 after the ascent commenced. In spite of all I had 
 said, I could not but feel that the chances were 
 altogether in favor of my friend's coming back 
 alive and well. 
 
 I watched the balloon till it looked like a speck 
 in the distance. It floated off to the westward, 
 towards the Harz Mountains. In spite of myself 
 I was nervous and uneasy about my friend. I 
 could not adopt his theory that he was just as safe 
 up in a balloon, a mile or two from the earth, as he 
 was on the solid ground. The time hung heavily 
 
318 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 upon me till night, and then I could not sleep for 
 thinking of Larry. I was sorry I had not been 
 more decided with him ; that I had not induced 
 my party to leave Leipsic before the ascension. 
 
 The morning papers contained no intelligence 
 of the aeronauts. I was told by the porter, to 
 whom I applied for information, that Cuore, the 
 balloonist's partner, had departed for Cassel, where 
 he was to make arrangements for another ascen- 
 sion at a fair, and where Bianchi was to convey 
 the balloon after its descent. Our party were 
 ready to continue the journey to England, and 
 were only waiting the return of Larry. At dark 
 he had not arrived, and I became very anxious 
 about him. But the porter came to me with an 
 evening paper, in which was a paragraph saying 
 that the balloon had descended near Nordhausen, 
 at the extremity of the Harz Mountains. 
 
 " When will he return? " I asked. 
 
 " Not to-night. It is more as sixty miles, mit a 
 railroad only from Halle," replied the porter. 
 
 " Here he is ! " I actually shouted, as Larry en- 
 tered the office, covered with mud from head to foot. 
 
 " Jawold ! " exclaimed the porter. 
 
 " How are you, Phil?" said my friend, grasping 
 my offered hand. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 319 
 
 " First rate ; only I have worried my life out 
 about you," I replied. " What's the matter ? " 
 
 He looked pale, and seemed to be exhausted. I 
 was sure he was not satisfied with his journey in 
 the air. 
 
 " I'm tired, Phil ; that's all. I want some 
 supper." 
 
 We went to our room, after ordering his sup- 
 per, where he changed his clothes. But he was 
 weary and languid, for him. 
 
 " Where did you land, Larry ? " 
 
 " I haven't the least idea. Don't know the 
 name of a single town through which I passed," 
 said he, with a faint smile. " I couldn't speak a 
 word of the lingo, and no one spoke English." 
 
 " But where was Bianchi ? " 
 
 " Bianchi ? " 
 
 " The balloonist." 
 
 " Humph ! He wasn't there. But let me have 
 some supper before I say anything. Don't ask me 
 another question, Phil." 
 
 I saw that something unpleasant had occurred; 
 but I waited until after he had taken his supper, 
 when he declared that he felt better. 
 
 " Now, Phil, we will go up stairs, and I will tell 
 you all about it," said he. 
 
320 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 In the chamber he threw himself upon a lounge. 
 
 " Did you see the man who went up with me, 
 Phil ? " 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Did you know him ? " 
 
 " No. He did not show himself till the moment 
 you started, and I could not see his face, which 
 was nearly covered by the cowl of his coat." 
 
 " Who do you think he was ? " 
 
 " Bianchi, I supposed." 
 
 " Not at all." 
 
 " Who was he ? " 
 
 " Cuore." 
 
 " You don't mean so." 
 
 " The fellow we talked with here was Bianchi ; 
 and he is the man who usually makes the ascen- 
 sions." 
 
 " But 3 r ou don't mean to say that your companion 
 in the balloon was the Cuore we knew in Italy." 
 
 " I do. I was sure I saw him in the garden, 
 though you did not believe me. He was the very 
 man. I did not see his face till we were half a 
 mile above the earth. He stood with his back to- 
 wards me, waving the flags. I did not feel quite 
 at home in the basket, though, as I sat in the bot- 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 321 
 
 torn of the car, I was not conscious of any motion. 
 Then I looked over the side, and the view was so 
 magnificent that I could not help shouting with 
 rapture. It was the subliinest thing in the world. 
 Phil, I advise you to go up in a balloon when you 
 get a chance ; but don't go up with such a fellow 
 as Cuore." 
 
 " I certainly shall not, if I can help it. How long 
 was it before you recognized your companion ? " 
 
 " When he had waved the flags a while, he threw 
 back his cowl and turned round. I knew him at 
 once, though he was very much altered in appear- 
 ance. He was dressed better, and wore a longer 
 beard. He looked at me, and, if ever a man was 
 ugly, he was. 
 
 " ' Cuore ! ' said I. 
 
 " ' At your service,' he replied. 
 
 " I told him that I supposed we did not meet by 
 accident ; but he made no reply, and did not seem 
 to be ready for business. We floated over towns 
 and villages, and were approaching the hills to the 
 westward at sunset. The balloon began to drop, 
 and Cuore threw out bags of sand till we rose 
 again. I suggested that it was nearly dark, and 
 that we had better make a landing. 
 21 
 
322 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " ' I purpose to stay up all night,' said he. 
 
 " ' All right,' I replied. 
 
 " But, having used up all his ballast, the balloon 
 dropped down into a lower atmosphere, and began 
 to go to the eastward, in another current. 
 
 " ' This will never do,' said Cuore. ' I want to 
 go over the Harz Mountains, for we make an as- 
 cension in Cassel. The balloon will rise no higher 
 with both of us in the car.' 
 
 " * And you would like to throw me out,' I sug- 
 gested. 
 
 " ' No,' he replied, ' I would not do such a thing.' 
 
 " I told him plainly that he was in the employ of 
 Miles Grimsby ; that he had dogged me from Lon- 
 don, and that the present excursion was for my 
 benefit. The balloon was now slowly nearing the 
 earth, and to help it along, I gave the valve rope a 
 pull, for I was in a hurry to have my dangerous 
 companion where I could be on equal terms with 
 him. The moment I touched it, he clinched me by 
 the throat, and attempted to throw me out of the 
 car. I was desperate then, as any man would be 
 in such a situation. He was not so strong as he 
 supposed he was, for he had not entirely recovered 
 from his wounds. In the midst of the struggle, I 
 
vZKj'z&l) 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 323 
 
 heard him groan heavily. I don't know, but I 
 think that, in his violent exertions, he opened the 
 old wound, for he fell back upon the ropes by 
 which the basket was suspended. I pulled him 
 down into the bottom of the car. He would have 
 fallen out if I had not done so, and I did not wish 
 to serve him as he intended to serve me. I would 
 not have his death upon my conscience for all the 
 revenues of Grimsby. He was not insensible, but 
 he seemed to be in great pain. 
 
 " In the struggle my legs had become entangled 
 in the valve rope, and the pressure upon it kept 
 it open. The balloon descended steadily, and soon 
 touched the ground upon the side of a hill. There 
 was not a breath of air, and the instant the car 
 reached ground I threw over the grapnel, and 
 leaped out, intending to hold on to the basket. I 
 knew nothing about ballooning, and I was too much 
 excited to think. I supposed the grapnel would 
 hold the thing ; but the moment the balloon was 
 relieved of my weight it shot up into the air again. 
 I lost my hold upon the basket, for it went up with 
 a jerk the instant my feet touched the earth. The 
 grapnel rope was wound around the trunk of a 
 tree, and ran out of the car, to which it did not 
 
324 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 appear to be fastened. Relieved of my weight, 
 and of that of the grapnel and rope, the balloon 
 rose, moving first to the eastward, and then, as its 
 altitude increased, to the westward. 
 
 " Now, Phil, I didn't mean to leave Cnore in 
 that car. I hope I had enough of your Christian 
 spirit about me to do what I could for him in his 
 disabled condition, though he sought my life, and 
 will again, if he recovers." 
 
 " But what did you do, Larry? " 
 
 " I could not do anything for Cuore, and not 
 much for myself. A dozen men, women, and chil- 
 dren gathered around me, and looked at me with 
 wonder and astonishment. Probably they had 
 been watching the balloon, and hastened to the 
 spot when they saw it descending. One of them 
 spoke to me, but of course I couldn't understand 
 him. I spoke English to the group, but no one 
 comprehended it. I showed some money, and 
 said, ' Leipsic,' a dozen times. I made all sorts 
 of signs, and was finally conducted to a house. 
 I continued to repeat ' Leipsic ' until the people 
 comprehended what I wanted, and conveyed me 
 in a cart to the nearest town. At the little hotel 
 a man was brought to me who spoke a little 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 325 
 
 English. I told him I had come in the balloon, 
 and wished to go back to Leipsic as soon as pos- 
 sible. I was told that a diligence would pass 
 through the place in the middle of the night. I 
 had some supper, and then tried to sleep ; but I 
 could not. My nerves were more shaken than 
 ever before. At midnight I took the diligence, 
 and came to a place where I took the train ; and 
 here I am, nearer used up than I ever was 
 before." 
 
 u That's a very strange adventure," I added. 
 
 " Strange ! I am beginning to lose my taste for 
 adventure. I can't help thinking how I felt when 
 Cuore attempted to pitch me out of the balloon. 
 The idea of dropping down half a mile, and fetch- 
 ing up with a round turn on a rock, or even on 
 the ground, was the most disagreeable thing that 
 ever came over me. Moral. When you go up 
 in a balloon, get introduced to your companion 
 before you start." 
 
 " What do you suppose has become of Cuore ? " 
 
 "I haven't the least idea; but I suppose the 
 balloon has come down before this time. I must 
 go to bed, Phil, for I am used up." 
 
 I found my mother in the private parlor, and 
 
326 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OE 
 
 repeated the adventure of my friend to an inter- 
 ested little audience. 
 
 Larry was better the next day, and we pro- 
 ceeded on our journey. 
 
 " I don't understand how Cuore came in that 
 balloon," said I, as we rode along in the railway 
 carriage. 
 
 " It is plain enough to me now, for I thought it 
 all over while I was riding in that diligence. Cu- 
 ore clogged me all the time, watching his chance 
 to do something. He must have heard me say I 
 wanted to go up in a balloon. Then he made a 
 trade with Bianchi to go in his place." 
 
 "But why did Bianchi call himself Cuore?" 
 
 " Probably to blind me, and to provoke an in- 
 quiry in regard to the real Cuore, so that he could 
 convince us there was no such Italian in Leipsic." 
 
 "Very likely. I hope you won't go up in a 
 balloon again." 
 
 " I don't know. I think it pays, if you know 
 your companion." 
 
 We continued on our journey, but did not 
 reach London until the end of a week. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 327 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY VISIT GRIMSBY HALL, AND 
 RETURN TO AMERICA. 
 
 LARRY had written to Sir Philip that our 
 party would be in London at a certain time, 
 and on our arrival he found a letter from the 
 baronet, inviting us all to Grimsby Hall. We 
 went after a day in the great city. Larry and I 
 had letters from the president of the Lowerville 
 Bank, acknowledging full satisfaction for all that 
 was due the bank. My friend's letter, being the 
 last one, assured him that the " honorable con- 
 duct " of the friends of Mr. Fennimore had placed 
 his reputation above reproach. Though I was un- 
 able to see how this could be, I was willing to ac- 
 cept the fact. The directors were men of the 
 world, it appeared afterwards, and losing no 
 money by the cashier, they were willing and 
 glad to acquit him of all evil intentions. They 
 
328 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 circulated the story that lie was partially insane, 
 aud never meant to rob the bank of a dollar. His 
 subsequent death, and the prompt settlement of 
 all his accounts with the bank, appeared to con- 
 firm the statement, and his conduct was all " ex- 
 plained away." 
 
 All this was decidedly wrong, for the explana- 
 tions were all pure inventions ; but so far as Mr. 
 Fennimore was concerned, he bitterly repented 
 of his crime, and made all the restitution to the 
 bank in his power. He deserved to be forgiven, 
 but not to be "whitewashed." 
 
 We went to Grimsby Hall. The family were in 
 deep mourning for Miles, senior, so far as outward 
 appearances were concerned, but there was no 
 genuine grief. Miles the younger was at home, 
 but he was silent, moody, and cross-grained. We 
 were cordially welcomed by the baronet and 
 Blanche, but by no one else ; and our party were 
 not disposed to remain long. 
 
 " Miles, my boy, don't be so stiff with your 
 cousin," said Sir Philip, as we sat in the library, 
 on the evening of our arrival, after my mother and 
 the Collingsbys had retired. 
 
 " I'm not stiff, sir," replied he. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 329 
 
 " 'Pon my life you are. I think you hate him." 
 
 "Certainly not, -'sir," protested Miles. 
 
 "It isn't his fault that he is your cousin, and the 
 son of your father's older brother." 
 
 " I know it, sir, and I don't blame him. I have 
 tried to treat him well, though I was a little irri- 
 tated when I first saw that he came between me 
 and my expectations." 
 
 " I don't want to have any muss about it," inter- 
 posed Larry ; " but I don't think he has tried very 
 hard to treat me well." 
 
 " For what took place in the railway carriage 
 when we were going to London, I beg your par' 
 don," replied Miles, trying to look penitent. 
 
 " Apology cheerfully accepted," added Larry. 
 
 "What was that?" asked the baronet. "You 
 never said anything to me about it." 
 
 " No, I did not, grandfather, for I don't want to 
 be the author of a family row." 
 
 " I am very much obliged to him for his forbear- 
 ance," replied Miles. " I think he has no further 
 cause of complaint." 
 
 " Unfortunately, I have," said Larry ; and I saw 
 that he was determined to expose the conduct of 
 Miles. 
 
330 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " What have you been doing, Miles ? " demanded 
 the baronet, sternly. 
 
 " Nothing at all, grandfather. Except in the 
 instance for which I have apologized, I have never 
 spoken an unkind word to him." 
 
 "That is very true, Miles; but you have done 
 worse than that. You have employed an Italian 
 bravo to dog my steps, and take my life, and twice 
 I have narrowly escaped death at his hands." 
 
 " 'Pon my life ! " exclaimed the baronet, spring- 
 ing to his feet, his face red with anger. 
 
 " I really do not know what he means, Sir 
 Philip," replied Miles, with an assumed look of 
 amazement. 
 
 " I was here three months in the summer, and 
 did Tiot mention the circumstance," continued 
 Larry; "but I confess I don't like to have a cut- 
 throat on my track always. It isn't pleasant to be 
 obliged to be on the lookout for an assassin all the 
 time." 
 
 " I should say not," added the baronet, decid- 
 edly. " Are you so bad as this, Miles ? " 
 
 " You condemn me, grandfather, without an} r 
 proof. I haven't the least idea what Lawrence 
 means." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 331 
 
 " Do you know one Cuore, an Italian ? " asked 
 Larry. 
 
 " Never heard of such a person." 
 
 " Wait a minute ; I will bring the papers, for I 
 am prepared to prove all that I say," said Larry, 
 leaving the room ; but he soon returned with a 
 couple of letters in his hand. 
 
 " This is all a fiction, Sir Philip," protested 
 Miles. 
 
 " We will see whether it is or not," replied 
 Larry. " I have told you about our experience in 
 the French army, and that Phil and I narrowly es- 
 caped being shot as spies ; but I didn't tell you 
 how we got into the scrape." 
 
 My friend detailed our relations with Cuore 
 from the time we first met him in Paris, and 
 showed how he had led us into a doubtful position, 
 and then caused our arrest on the Ticino. 
 
 "All that may be, but I had nothing whatever 
 to do with it," said Miles, who had not yet been 
 connected with the affair. 
 
 " We found upon the person of the Italian this 
 letter, which contained a draft for money sent to 
 him." 
 
 The baronet took the letter, and carefully exam- 
 ined it. 
 
332 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " No signature; but it' looks like your writing, 
 Miles." 
 
 " It is not my writing, grandfather, and I know 
 nothing about it." 
 
 " Then the general opened the mail-bag, in 
 which Cuore had put some letters. One was di- 
 rected to Miles Grimsby." 
 
 " Perhaps it was to my father," said Miles, who 
 now looked pale, and his lip quivered. 
 
 " Pshaw, Miles ! Your father had not mind 
 enough to write a letter, or to do any business, 
 within the last three months." 
 
 " Here is the letter, Sir Philip." 
 
 The baronet read it. There could be no doubt 
 that it was addressed to Miles, and the contents 
 fully confirmed all that Larry had declared. 
 
 " Then, at Leipsic, I found myself in a balloon 
 car with this same Cuore, who attempted to throw 
 me out, and who, perhaps, would have succeeded 
 if the wound he had received in Italy had not 
 broken out afresh ; " and Larry detailed the event 
 with thrilling power. 
 
 " That's enough ! " exclaimed the baronet. 
 " Miles is as crazy as his father was. I have been 
 too indulgent ! I have spoiled the boy. He uses 
 my money to hire an assassin ! " 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 333 
 
 " This is a ridiculous" story, Sir Philip, trumped 
 up to prejudice you against me," protested Miles. 
 " There is not a word of truth in it. The story 
 is silly. If the Italian attempted to take his life 
 in the balloon, why didn't he cause his arrest ? 
 He doesn't even inquire what became of the man. 
 There isn't a word of truth in the story." 
 
 " I would give ten years of my life if I could 
 believe there was not," said the baronet, sadly. 
 
 " I am rather sorry I said anything about the 
 matter," added Larry. 
 
 " It is best that I should know the truth, bad 
 as it is. I will investigate for myself. No more 
 of my money shall go to. pay a bravo." 
 
 Miles left the room, no longer able to confront 
 his grandfather's grief and anger. 
 
 " What are you going to do, Lawrence, my 
 boy?" asked Sir Philip. 
 
 " I am willing to do whatever you may desire, 
 sir." 
 
 " Then go to America with your friend. It is 
 better that you should be out of the way for a 
 season. Return in the spring." 
 
 We talked till midnight ; Sir Philip thought 
 that Larry would be happier in the United States 
 
334 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 than he would be in England, though he was 
 sorry to part with him ; but he hoped to " bring 
 Miles to his senses " before spring. 
 
 We remained at Grimsby Hall three days, 
 during which my mother became very much 
 attached to Blanche Fennimore. The poor girl 
 was not happy in her new home. Miles and his 
 mother disliked her on account of her relations 
 to Larry, and her only friend in the house was 
 Sir Philip, who was very kind to her. But she 
 did not feel at home, and she made a confidante 
 of my mother. She desired to return to America, 
 and her wish came to the baronet. 
 
 " You will all leave me — will you ? " said he 
 to Larry. 
 
 " I do not wish to leave you. I am to go by 
 your advice." 
 
 'j It is better for you to go, and I dare say for 
 Blanche too, for I have to prepare the way for 
 you. Go, and God bless you." 
 
 " But Blanche will stay, if you desire it." 
 
 " I haven't the heart to ask it. It is no home 
 for a girl like her, while Miles is here. Go, both 
 of you ; and it will be different in the spring. 
 Write me every week." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDTER. 335 
 
 Sir Philip evidently intended to make some 
 change in his household, to reform the evil spirit 
 of Miles. He preferred to do this unobserved by 
 Larry and Blanche. The baronet was very sad 
 when we left him, and Miles kept out of the way. 
 We went to Liverpool, -and after a stormy passage, 
 arrived at New York, where we were obliged to 
 remain several days, until Mrs. Collingsby recov- 
 ered from the effects of the voyage. My mother 
 invited Blanche to go with us to Chicago, but her 
 friends in the city insisted that she should pass 
 the winter with them. Larry, therefore, was not 
 disposed to go away farther with us, though he 
 promised to visit me soon. 
 
 We journeyed slowly to Chicago, and when we 
 arrived I confess that my heart bounded with 
 anxiety, as I thought of meeting the Collingsbys 
 there. Joseph had written to them that my 
 mother had acknowledged me as her son, and 
 that he had no doubt of the fact ; but I could not 
 see how my grandfather and my uncle Richard 
 would be able to retire from the position they 
 had before taken in regard to me. They were 
 of that sort of people who are determined to be 
 consistent. But I wronged them in my thoughts. 
 
336 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OE 
 
 The first person I saw when I entered the house 
 was my father. I was astonished to see him 
 there, and more astonished when my grand- 
 father and my uncle gave me a cordial recep- 
 tion. My father and mother met in perfect 
 reconciliation, and both wept in each other's em- 
 brace. 
 
 " You were right, Philip," said the elder Mr. 
 Collingsby. " You are my grandson beyond a 
 peradventure. I am satisfied now." 
 
 " So am I, sir ; and I think I could have con- 
 vinced you before, if you would have heard me," 
 I replied. 
 
 " it would not have done a particle of good to 
 hear you. I should not have believed you if I 
 had heard you. I believed it was all a trick on 
 the part of your father ; but he is a new man 
 now, and I am sorry I wronged him." 
 
 I could ask for no more, and my happiness was 
 complete. For a week we talked over the past, 
 and lived it over again, both in its joys and its 
 sorrows. But my father's business demanded his 
 return to St. Louis, and my mother and myself 
 went with him. A house had already been pro- 
 vided, and we took immediate possession of it. 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 337 
 
 For the first time in my life I felt at home. I 
 was in the actual realization of the joys I had 
 anticipated for years. I was under the same roof 
 with my father and my mother, reunited after a 
 separation of fifteen years. 
 
 On the evening of the day we entered our 
 new home, my father read a chapter from the 
 Bible, and in his prayer which followed, he ut- 
 tered the thanksgivings to God that were in 
 all our hearts. Morning and evening he read and 
 prayed, and thus kept himself strong against the 
 temptations that continually beset him. 
 
 " I did not believe you would ever reform, 
 Edward," said my mother, one evening after the 
 family devotions. 
 
 " I did not believe that I ever should myself; 
 but that good woman, Mrs. Greenongh, of whom 
 I have spoken to you, put me on the right track. 
 I had no strength of myself, but God gave it 
 to me when I asked for it. Without my Bible, 
 and without my daily prayer, I am afraid I could 
 not stand a single day. You don't know what 
 power it gives me to feel that God is my ever- 
 present help. I still hanker for whiskey. It has 
 seemed to me, sometimes, that I must drink ; and 
 22 
 
338 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 1 know that I should if God did not help me every 
 day and hour that I live." 
 
 My mother was deeply impressed by the words 
 of my father. She went to church with him the 
 next Sunday, and attended the evening meetings. 
 His influence soon led her to join him in the Up- 
 ward and Onward pilgrimage upon which we now 
 all journeyed together. I cannot tell how happy 
 we were, for every hour seemed like a dream of 
 bliss to me. I need hardly say that I did not spend 
 a day in St. Louis without calling upon the Grace- 
 woods. Ella gave me a greeting which assured 
 me that I had still a place in her heart. They 
 came to our hous,e, and my mother thanked them 
 for all they had done for me. The two families 
 were fast friends from the moment they met, and 
 frequent were the visits from one house to the 
 other. " Mrs. Greenough was a valued friend of 
 both. 
 
 A week before Christmas I had a letter from 
 Larry, promising to spend the holidays with me. 
 He came, and our tongues flew from morning till 
 night. 
 
 " I had a letter from Sir Philip the other day," 
 said he. ' % The old gentleman is taming Miles with 
 a vengeance." 
 
THE STRUGGLES OP A SOLDIER. 339 
 
 " How taming him ? " 
 
 " He stopped bis money allowance, and keeps a 
 shadow to watch him wherever he goes. But it 
 will do no good." 
 
 " If he stops his allowance he cannot employ any 
 such fellow as Cuore to dog you." 
 
 " He can raise all the money he wants. The 
 brokers in London will discount his expectations. 
 But never mind him. I have bought a yacht, 
 Phil." 
 
 " A yacht ! " 
 
 " One hundred and twenty tons. She was sold 
 at auction, and I bought her at half her value." 
 
 " How do you know she is a good vessel ? " 
 
 " I got the old sailors to examine her, bored her 
 timbers, and all that sort of thing. She is only 
 two years old, sound as a nut, and took the first 
 prize in half a dozen races. I shall go to England 
 in her in the spring, and you must go with me." 
 
 " I can't go." 
 
 " What's the reason you can't ? " demanded he, 
 excitedly. 
 
 " I can't afford to spend any more of my time in 
 that way. My father is not rich ; has only his 
 salary of three thousand a year," I replied. 
 
340 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, OR 
 
 " But your mother's family are rich." 
 
 " Undoubtedly ; but we have no claims upon 
 them. I must go to work, and earn my own 
 living." 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " 
 
 " I don't know ; but I suppose I shall be a clerk." 
 
 " How much salary do you expect to get ? " 
 
 " Eight hundred, or a thousand." 
 
 " Good ! I appoint you captain of the Blanche, 
 at a salary of one thousand dollars a year." 
 
 " Thank you, Larry ; you are very kind." 
 
 " No, I'm not; none of that." 
 
 " I'm certainly very grateful — " 
 
 " Dry up ! None of your gratitude." 
 
 " I should certainly like the position better than 
 anything else I can think of; but I'm afraid my 
 father and mother will not consent to the long 
 absence." 
 
 " We will reason with them." 
 
 They consented, after a long argument, only to 
 oblige my friend who had saved my life, and 
 because I desired so much to go. Of my ex- 
 perience in the Blanche I have yet to tell, for I 
 sailed in her from New York on the first of April. 
 Larry spent a happy week with me, and I met him 
 
THE STRUGGLES OF A SOLDIER. 341 
 
 again on board of the Blanche about two weeks 
 later. I devoted the rest of the winter to the 
 study of navigation, maritime and naval laws, in 
 order to fit myself for my new position. But 
 whatever else I studied, I could not, in my father's 
 house, forget that the business of this world is not 
 the chief end of existence. I still labored to make 
 my course upward and onward, and endeavored to 
 profit by all the experiences of life, and not least 
 by those of Bivouac and Battle. 
 
LEE & SHEPARD'S JUVENILE PUBLIQATIONS. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S BOOKS. 
 
 YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD. 
 
 A Library of Travel and Adventure in Foreign Lands. 16mo. 
 Illustrated by Nast, Stevens, Perkins, and others. 
 
 OUTWARD BOUND; or, Young America Afloat 
 $1.50. 
 
 " In Outward Bound," " the Ship Toting America, sails for Europe, witl 
 a school of eighty-seven boys aboard her, who pursue the studies of a school 
 and at the same time work the ship across the Atlantic, beiug amenable ta 
 regular naval discipline." 
 
 SHAMROCK AND THISTLE; or, Young Amer- 
 ica in Ireland and Scotland. $1.50. 
 "This volume continues the history of the academy ship and her crew of 
 boys, with their trips into the intorior as well as voyages along the coast of 
 Ireland and Scotland. The young scholar will get a truer and fuller concep- 
 tion of these countries by reading this unpretentious journal of travel, than 
 by weeks of hard study upon the geographies and histories." 
 
 RED CROSS ; or, Young America in England arid 
 Wales. $1.50. 
 " The third volume of Oliver Optic's Library of travel and adventure 
 chronicles the doings of the Young America and her crew in British ports 
 and waters, and is replete with thrilling adventures and descriptions of noted 
 places." 
 
 DIKES AND DITCHES; or, Young America in 
 Holland and Belgium. $1.50 
 
 " The author takes his readers on voyages up the rivers and canals of Hol- 
 land and Belgium, on tramps through the cities, their schools, the ir art gal- 
 leries, and their wonderful buildings, giving at every turn vivid impressions 
 of what is seen and heard therein and thereabouts." 
 
 PALACE AND COTTAGE ; or, Young America in 
 Trance and Switzerland. $1.50 
 " This volume relates the history of the American Squadron (Young 
 America and Josephine) in the waters of France, with the journey of the 
 students to Paris and through a portion of Switzerland. As an episode, 
 the story of the runaway cruise of the Josephine is introduced, inculcating 
 the moral that ' the way of the transgressor is hard.' " 
 
 DOWN THE RHINE; or, Young America in Ger» 
 many. $1.50. 
 This volume concludes the first series of Yoang America, and is as inter- 
 esting and instructive as the preceding volumes. So great has been the suc- 
 cess of this series, that Oliver Optic is now preparing a second. " Up the 
 Baltic" will be the first volume, to be followed by " Northern Lands," "Vine 
 and Olive," " Sunny Shores," " Cross and Orescent" and " Isles of the Sea.' 
 
 Sold by all book-sellers and news-dealers, and sent by mail on receipt o| 
 price, 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
LEE & SHEPARD'S JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S BOOKS. 
 
 STARRY FLAG SERIES. 
 
 Each volume handsomely illustrated. In sets or separate. 
 
 THE STARRY FLAG ; or, the Young Fisherman of 
 
 Cape Ann. fl.25. 
 
 " The early history of Levi Fairfield, the boy hero of this volume, as it is 
 graphically traced by Oliver Optic, will be apt to hold boy-readers spell- 
 bound. His manly virtue, his determined character, his superiority to mean 
 Vice, his industry, and his stirring adventures, will suggest good lessons 
 for imitation." — Presbyterian. 
 
 BREAKING AWAY; or, the Fortunes of a Student. 
 
 fl.25. 
 
 " In this volume Oliver Optic opens the school-room door, and shows the 
 mature, construction, and workings of the school system; its lights and 
 shadows ; its discipline, and the serious consequences that come from want 
 of discipline." — Patriot. 
 
 SEEK AND FIND ; or, the Adventures of a Smart 
 Boy. $1.25. 
 
 Earnest Thornton, the " smart boy " of this story, is a clear headed, well 
 intentioned, plucky boy, that has a high aim and means right even where he 
 is wrong, and his adventures will be read with interest. 
 
 FREAKS OF FORTUNE ; or, Half around the 
 World, — a sequel to " The Starry Flag." $1.25. 
 " The adventures of Levi Fairfield, the noble young Captain of the Starry 
 Flag, excited such an interest among the young folks that the continuance of 
 his story was called for, with which demand the ever ready author has 
 complied, with a story equally attractive and interesting." 
 
 MAKE OR BREAK ; or, the Rich Man's Daughter. 
 
 $1.25. 
 
 " This is a lively, stirring volume, full of interest and instruction from one 
 cover to the other. Just the book a smart, wide-awake boy will enjoy in- 
 tensely." — Press. 
 
 DOWN THE RIVER ; or, Buck Bradford and his 
 Tyrants, fl.25. 
 
 " These stories are not only written in a manner well calculated to enchain 
 the attention of young readers, but teach at the same time such important 
 lessons of sobriety, industry and cheerfulness, that we should like to see 
 them in the hands of every boy in the land." — Galesburg Free Press. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers and newsdealers, and sent by mail, post-paid, on 
 receipt of price. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
LEE & SHEPARD'S JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 VACATION STORY BOOKS. 
 
 8 volumes. Each volume handsomely illustrated. 80 e^nts. 
 
 WORTH NOT WEALTH. 
 COUNTRY LIFE. 
 THE CHARM. 
 
 KARL KEIGLER. 
 
 WALTER SEYTON. 
 
 HOLIDAYS AT CHESTNUT HILL. 
 
 ROSY DIAMOND STORY BOOKS. 
 
 6 volumes. Each volume handsomely illustrated. 80 cents. 
 
 THE GREAT ROSY DIAMOND. 
 
 DAISY ; or, The Fairy Spectacles. 
 VIOLET: A Fairy Story. 
 
 MINNIE; or, The Little "Woman. 
 THE ANGEL CHILDREN. 
 
 LITTLE BLOSSOM'S REWARD, 
 
 These volumes are finely and profusely illustrated from designs by Hoppin 
 
 and other eminent artists. They are elegantly bound, and neatly packed in 
 
 ornamental boxes. As gifts for holidays and birthdays, where a uniform 
 
 Value and appearance is desired, they are excellent. 
 
 Mrs. Madeline Leslie's Hooks. 
 
 PLAY AND STUDY SERIES. 
 
 4 volumes. Each volume illustrated. Price, $1.50. 
 
 PLAY AND STUDY. 
 
 THE MOTHERLESS CHILDREN. 
 
 HOWARD AND HIS TEACHER. 
 
 JACK, THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP. 
 
 LITTLE AGNES' LIBRARY. 
 
 4 volumes. Each volume illustrated. Price, $1.50. 
 
 LITTLE AGNES. 
 
 TRYING TO BE USEFUL. 
 I 'LL TRY. 
 
 ART AND ARTLESSNESS. 
 For family reading and Sabbath School libraries there are no bettor books 
 "written than these by Mrs. Leslie. With attractive and interesting storie3 
 are mingled wholesome truths and moral lessons. Of all these books large 
 editions have been printed, and they may be found largely circulated in Sab- 
 bath Schools. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers and newsdealers, and sent by mail, post-paid, on 
 receipt of price. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
LEE & SHEPARD'S JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S BOOKS. 
 
 WOODVILLE STORIES. 
 
 16mo. Handsomely Illustrated. In sets or separate. 
 
 RICH AND HUMBLE ; or, the Mission of Bertha 
 Grant. $1.25. 
 " No author is more welcomed by the young, and no hooks can be mora 
 safely placed in their hands. His writings, as in this volume of ' Rich and 
 Humble,' inspire the reader with a lofty purpose. They show the wrong 
 courses of life only to present, by contrast, the true and right path, and 
 make it the way which youth will wish to walk in, because of its being tk& 
 most pleasant and inviting." — Mass. Teacher. 
 
 IN SCHOOL AND OUT; or, The Conquest of llich. 
 ard Grant. $1.25. 
 
 " Oliver Optic is as well known and as highly appreciated among the 
 young people of our land as Charles Dickens is among the older folks. ' In 
 School and Out' is equal to anything he has written. It is a story that will 
 deeply interest boys particularly, and make them better." — Notices of the 
 Press. 
 
 WATCH AND WAIT ; or, The Young Fugitives. 
 $1.25. 
 The author has used, to the best advantage, the many exciting incidents 
 that naturally attend the career of a fugitive slave, and the seeds that he may 
 sow in youthful hearts will perhaps bear a hundred-fold. 
 
 WORK AND WIN; or, Noddy Newman on a Cruise. 
 
 $1.25. 
 "A nautical story of adventure and endurance, written to delineate the 
 upward progress of a boy whose moral attributes were of the lowest order, 
 in consequence of neglected education, but in whom high religious princi- 
 ples were afterwards developed." — Notices of the Press. 
 
 HOPE AND HAVE ; or, Fanny Grant among the 
 
 • Indians. $1.25. 
 
 " This is a story of Western adventure and of peril among the Indians, 
 and contains the experience of Fanny Grant, who, from a very naughty girl, 
 became a very good one, by the influence of a pure and beautiful example 
 exhibited by an erring child, in the hour of her greatest wandering from the 
 path of virtue." — Philadelphia Age. 
 
 HASTE AND WASTE ; or, The Young Pilot of 
 Lake Champlaiu. $1.25. 
 " This is a story of boyish daring and integrity upon Lake Champlain, 
 and older heads than those of sixteen may read and profit by it." 
 
 The stories in the " Woodville " series are hinged together only so far as 
 the same characters have been retained in each. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
LEE & SHEPARD'S JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 By the Author of " Spartacus to the Gladiators." 
 
 ELM ISLAND STORIES. 
 
 To fee completed in six vols. III. Per vol., $1.25. 
 
 LION BEN OF ELM ISLAND. 16mo. Illustrated. $1.25. 
 
 " Elm Island lays off the coast of Eastern Maine, a wild and romantia 
 region, and the incidents of the story are recorded as happening- when this 
 Country was just emerging from its struggle for independence. It is a 
 capital story of the rough-and-tumble life of the early settlers." — Chicago 
 Journal of Commerce. 
 
 CHARLIE BELL, THE WAIF OF ELM ISLAND. 16mo. 
 
 Illustrated. $1.25. 
 
 " This volume tells the story of Charlie Bell, who was thrown upon Elm 
 Island like a waif from the ocean, and adopted by Lion Ben. With Yankee 
 boys he shares the excitiug adventures of a new country and a rude state 
 of society." 
 
 THE ARE OF ELM ISLAND. 16mo. Illustrated. $1.25. 
 
 This volume of the series is by no means inferior in interest to its prede- 
 cessors, dealing principally with adventures at sea, which are always 
 delightful to boys. 
 
 THE BOY FARMERS OF ELM ISLAND. 16mo. Illus- 
 trated. $1.25. 
 
 The fourth volume of the series gives, in graphic and earnest style, tha 
 efforts of three lads to transform Elm Island from a wilderness to a fruit- 
 ful and productive land. It is full of life, adventure, and fun. 
 
 THE YOUNG SHIPBUILDERS OF ELM ISLAND. 
 16mo. Illustrated. $1.25. 
 
 81 Mr. Kellogg is winning laurels as a writer for and educator of youth 
 Health and vigor are in his writings, and the lad has more of the first-class 
 tnan iD him after the perusal." — Providence Press. 
 
 Sold by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, and sent by mail, postpaidi 
 on receipt of price. 
 
 LEE &. SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
Lee &> ShepanPs Recent Publications. 
 
 OLIVER OPTICS NEW BOOKS. 
 
 NORTHERN LANDS, or Young America in Russia and 
 Prussia. By Oliver Optic. i6mo. Illustrated. $1-50. 
 
 UP THE BALTIC, or Young America in Sweden, Nor- 
 way and Denmark. One handsome i6mo volume. Il- 
 lustrated. $1-50. 
 
 " Oliver Optic is so well known to the boys of America that he needs r.o 
 introduction, nor do his writings require any editorial indorsement. H.s 
 name on the title-page of any volume is enough to insure its immediate ac- 
 ceptance." — New York Citizen a?id Roicnd Table. 
 
 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE, or The Struggles of a Sol- 
 dier. By Oliver Optic. i6mo. Illustrated. $1.25. 
 
 "This volume, attractively bound uniformly with the previous numbers 
 of the series, and neatly illustrated, details the further history of the hero, 
 Phil Farringford, locating the scene of his adventures in New York, and at 
 the scene of the Italian war in 1859, and shows how, through all his struggles 
 as a Soldier, true to his motto, ' Upward and Onward,' he was ever true to 
 himself, to his friends, and to his God." — Worcester Gazette. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S ALMANAC. Fully Illust. 30 cts. 
 
 "Who does not know who Oiiver Optic is, of his many juvenile books that 
 are read by Young America all over the land ? Well, his Almanac is equal to 
 half a dozen books. Be sure and get one." — Peru Herald. 
 
 "The Best Juvenile Magazine in the World." 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S MAGAZINE. Published by Lee & 
 
 Shepard, 149 Washington St., Boston, at $2.50 a Year. 
 
 " A careful examination of this magazine shows that it fairly takes the lead 
 in juvenile periodical literature. It contains more matter and in greater va- 
 riety, is better illustrated, displays more genuine editorial work than any of its 
 rivals in the field, and its great popularity and ever increasing circulation are 
 proofs that this is the verdict of the public." 
 
 The TJmi^ersal "Verdict. 
 
 " ' Oliver Optic' is a nom de flume that is known and loved 
 by almost every boy of intelligence in the land. We have 
 seen a highly intellectual and world-weary man, a cynic 
 whose heart was somewhat imbittered by its large experience 
 of human nature, take up one of Oliver Optic's books and 
 read it at a sitting, neglecting his work in yielding to the 
 fascination of the pages. When a mature and exceedingly 
 well-informed mind, long despoiled of all its freshness, can 
 thus find pleasure in a book for boys, no additional words of 
 recommendation are needed." — Sunday Times, JV T City. 
 
LEE & SHEPARD'8 JUVENILE FOBUOATIONS. 
 
 OLIVER OPTIC'S BOOKS. 
 
 THE BOAT CLUB SERIES, 
 
 A library for Young People, Each volume illustrated.- In sets or separate. 
 
 THE BOAT CLUB ; or, the Bunkers of Rippleton. 
 
 $1.25. 
 
 " One noticeable feature of this author's books is their purity. Not a line 
 is to be found in any work of his but what will tend to elevate and purify tha 
 mind of the boy or girl who may peruse it." 
 
 ALL ABOARD ; or, Life on the Lake. $1.25. ~ 
 
 "All Aboard" was written to gratify the reasonable curiosity of the 
 readers of the "Boat Club," to know what occurred at Woodlake during the 
 second season ; and though it is a sequel, it has no direct connection with ica 
 predecessor. The Introduction in the first chapter contains a brief synopsis 
 of the principal events of the first season; so that those who have not read 
 the "Boat Club" will labor under no disadvantage on that account. 
 
 NOW OR NEVER ; or, the Adventures of Bobby 
 
 Bright. $1.25. 
 
 The author has been for many years a successful teacher in one of the 
 Boston Public Schools, and the' knowledge of youthful character thus ob- 
 tained has been used to good advantage in his works. 
 
 TRY AGAIN ; or, the Trials and Triumphs of Harry- 
 West. $1.25. 
 
 The story of Harry West is a record of youthful experience designed to 
 illustrate the necessity and the results of perseverance in well doing. The 
 true success of life is the attainment of a pure and exalted character; and he 
 who at three-score-and-ten has won nothing but wealth and a name, has 
 failed to achieve the noblest purpose of his being. This is the moral of the 
 story contained in this volume. 
 
 LITTLE BY LITTLE ; or, the Cruise of the Fly- 
 away. $1.25. 
 
 Paul Duncan, the hero of this volume, is a nautical young gentleman, and 
 most of the events of the story occur upon the water, and possess that excit- 
 ing and captivating character for which this author's books are famous. But 
 the author hopes that something more than exciting incidents will be found 
 upon his pages; that though he has seldom, if ever, gone out of his way to 
 define the moral quality, or measure the moral quantity, of the words and 
 deeds of his characters, the story will not be found wanting in a true Chris- 
 tian spirit. 
 
 POOR AND PROUD ; or, the Fortunes of Katy 
 Redburn. $1.25. 
 
 The history of a smart girl, where fortunes are made to depend upon her 
 good principles, her politeness, her determined perseverance, and her over- 
 coming that foolish pride, which is a snare to the feet. In these respects she 
 is a worthy example for the young. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers and newsdealers, and sent by mail, post-paid a* 
 receipt of price. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
LEE & SKEPARDS JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 TALES OF ADVENTURE. 
 
 THE FRONTIER SERIES, 
 
 Four volumes. 16mo. HI. Price, per set, $5,00. 
 
 THE CABIN ON THE PRAIRIE. By Rev. Charles H, 
 Pearson. lGmo. llustrated. $1.25. 
 
 " The Cabin on the Prairie is an earnest, healthy book, full of th< 
 hardships, trials, and triumphs of life in our new settlements." 
 
 PLANTING THE WILDERNESS ; or, The Pioneer Boys. 
 By James D. McCabe, Jr. 16*mo. Illustrated. $ 1.25. 
 " Planting the Wilderness tells of the strange adventures of real life, 
 Which, more than the fancies of the novel writer, are of absorbing in- 
 terest." 
 
 TWELVE NIGHTS IN THE HUNTERS' CAMP. By 
 Rev. "W. Barrows. 16mo. Illustrated. $1.25. 
 
 " Twelve Nights in the Hunters' Camp is a pleasant, stirring, sensible 
 book, full of life and incident, and all aglow with the breezy freshness 
 of woods and prairies, lakes and rivers." 
 
 A THOUSAND MILES' WALK across the Pampas and 
 Andes of South America. By Nathaniel H. Bishop. 
 16mo. Illustrated. $1.50. 
 
 "A Thousand Miles' Walk across South America is a record of the 
 experiences of a Yankee boy, full of enthusiasm to see and learn by actual 
 sxperience the wonders of that almost terra incognita." 
 
 This series of books are of sterling merit, snd while they 
 closely follow real experiences, are full of those thrilling inci< 
 ients which charm both youth and age. 
 
 Sold by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, and sent by mail, postpaid, 
 on receipt of price. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
Lee &* SheparcPs Recent Publications. 
 
 NEW JUVENILE BOOKS. 
 
 THE DICK AND DAISY SERIES. By Miss Adelaide 
 F. Samuels. Four vols. Illustrated. Per vol., 50 cts. 
 
 "A very pretty box of small books for the juveniles. There are four vol- 
 umes, of a hundred pages each. We have first the Early Days of Dick and 
 Daisy, ' Adrift in the World ; ' their City Life, ' Fighting the Battle ; ' their 
 Proteges, ' Saved from the Street ; ' and their Reward, or ' Grandfather Mil- 
 ly's Luck.' This is a charming collection, written by Miss Adelaide F. Sam- 
 uels, of whom, judging from these volumes, the world will hear more here- 
 after." — A merican Baptist. 
 
 SINGULAR CREATURES; Being Studies and Stories from 
 the Domestic Zoology of our Parish. By Mrs. George 
 Cupples, author of "Driven to Sea," &c. i6mo. Illus- 
 trated. Cloth. $1.50. 
 The London papers thus speak of the authoress : — 
 
 " Of the miscellaneous articles, none are more charming than those by Mrs. 
 Geo. Cupples. . . . Her stories are for all readers, whether few or many 
 years 0;d." — Lo?idon Times (Tke Thunderer). 
 
 " Mrs. Geo. Cupples, who is already very favorably known as the writer of 
 any number of capital stories for juveniles, has succeeded in this instance in 
 producing a charming story." — Scotsman. 
 
 "We shall be mistaken if these well-written stories do not commend them- 
 selves to the good judgments of our readers." — New Monthly Magazine. 
 
 "Very interesting, and will afford many hours of amusement. " — Observer. 
 
 "Very charming and attractive." — London Record. 
 
 " Nicely and freshly written, perfectly healthy in tone, and remarkable for 
 a pleasant flow of human kindness." — London Illustrated News. 
 
 THE AMERICAN HOME BOOK of Indoor Games, Amuse- 
 ments, and Occupations. By Mrs. Caroline L. Smith 
 
 (Aunt Carrie). i6mo. Illustrated. $1.50. 
 
 " In compiling this ' American Home Book,' the author has admirably suc- 
 ceeded in mingling both work and play, and such amusements have been 
 selected, together with directions for useful and ornamental work, as can be 
 recommended to our young readers. Among its contents are : Amusements 
 for little boys and girls, musical and other games for little children, games of 
 memory, games for old and young, new games, material magic, head work, 
 answers to head work, amusements for Christmas holidays, Christmas, ven- 
 triloquism, gardening, flowers, house and home arts, the toilet, home reading, 
 the sick room, directions for making bread, yeast, &c." — Eagle, Pittsfield. 
 
Lee <5r* Shepard^s Publications. 
 
 NEW JUVENILE B^CJKS. 
 
 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. By Prof. James De Mille. 
 i6mo. Illustrated. $1.50. 
 
 "We don't know that we need say anv rrfbre of this book than to announce 
 its author, and everybody will know at once that it is written in a wide-awake, 
 dashing style. This tale is full of exciting scenes and hair-breadth escapes, 
 the location of which is in Italy, and the details of which afford an insight 
 into the characters to be found there, and the strange things to be seen, — 
 the brigands, the beggars, ruined and burned cities, &c, &c" — Lewiston 
 Journal. 
 
 FIRE IN THE WOODS. By Prof. James De Mille. 
 Uniform in style and price with "The B. O. W. C," "The 
 Boys of Grand Pre School," "Lost in the Fog," &c. 
 l6mo. Illustrated. $1.50. 
 
 "This book is the fourth in the B. O. W. C. series, and is fully equal to 
 the preceding volumes. The readers of Prof. De Milie's books maybe as- 
 sured at the outset that they will find no dull chapters to be waded through 
 or skipped, as shall best please each reader." — Meadville JourjuU. 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE CASCO. By Elijah Kellogg. 
 l6mo. Illustrated. $1.25. 
 
 "This volume is full of interesting and exciting adventures on sea and 
 land, with enough of fun to make it spicy and inviting. The storv illus- 
 trates how easily good persons may fall into bad company, and the influence 
 they exert when among those who are in the wrong path. Hence it teaches 
 an excellent moral lesson. " — Webster Times. 
 
 THE TURNING WHEEL. By Paul Cobden, author of 
 "Who Will Win?" and "Going on a Mission." i6mo. 
 Illustrated. $1.25. 
 
 "This is a volume of the 'Beckoning Series.' It has a preface at once 
 unique and suggestive. 'There is a wheel that is always turning. It never 
 stands still. To some, in its unceasing motion, it brings good; to others, 
 evil. That it may bring to all the readers of this story what they most need, 
 is the earnest wish of the writer.' These few words explain the title, and give 
 the hint to the story. It charminaly describes the turning of the wheel for its 
 own circle of characters, with the good and ill it brought." — Albany Jour. 
 
 AUNT MADGE'S STORY. By Sophie May, author of 
 
 "Little Prudy Stories," "Dotty Dimple Stories," &c. 
 
 Illustrated. 75 cents. 
 
 "The works of this writer for children have met with a heartv reception 
 from those for whom th y were intended; she knows just how to talk to the 
 little ones, and her style is remarkably adarted to their comprehension. 
 Aunt Madge's story is the third volume in ' Little Prudy's Flyaway Series,' 
 which is to be completed in six volumes, and every little one who has read or 
 heard read 'Little Prudy' and the 'Dotty Dimple' stories, will be delighted 
 with this." — Nation, Bosto7u 
 
REV. ELIJAH KELLOGG'S 
 
 ELM ISLAND STORIES. 
 
 Six vols. 16mo. Illustrated. Per vol., $1.25. 
 
 1. Lion Ben of Elm Island. 
 
 2. Charlie Bell. 
 
 3. The Ark of Elm Island. 
 
 4. The Boy Farmers of Elm 
 
 Island. 
 
 5. The Young Shipbuilders of 
 
 Elm Island. 
 
 6. The Hardserabble of Elm 
 
 Island. 
 
 "There is no sentimentalism in this series. 
 It is all downright matter-of-fact boy life, and 
 of course they are deeply interested in read- 
 ing it. The history of pioneer life is so 
 attractive that one involuntarily wishes to 
 renew those early struggles with adverse 
 circumstances, and join the busy actors in 
 their successful efforts to build up pleasant 
 homes on our sea-girt islands."— Zioris 
 Herald. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 Illustrated Natural History. 
 
 YOUNG HUNTER'S LIBRARY. 
 
 By MBS. R. Lee. Four volumes. 
 Per vol., $1.50. 
 
 Illustrated. 
 
 The Australian "Wanderers. 
 
 The Adventures of Captain Spencer and 
 his Horse and Dog in the Wilds of Aus- 
 tralia. 
 
 The African Crusoes. 
 
 The Adventures of Carlos and Antonio 
 in the Wilds of Africa. 
 
 Anecdotes of Animals, 
 
 With their Habits, Instincts, &c, &c. 
 
 Anecdotes of Birds, Fishes, Rep- 
 tiles, &c, their Habits and Instincts. 
 
 This is a very popular series, prepared for 
 the purpose of interesting the young in the 
 study of natural history. The exciting ad- 
 ventures of celebrated travellers, anecdotes 
 of sagacity in birds, beasts, &c, have been 
 interwoven in a pleasant manner. This se- 
 ries is not only very interesting but is deci- 
 dedly profitable reading. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 Wonderfhil Stories. 
 
 JUTLAND SERIES. 
 
 Four vols. Illustrated. Set in a neat box, or sold 
 separate. Per vol., $1.50. 
 
 The Sand Hills of Jutland. 
 
 By Hans Christian Andersen. l6mo, 
 Illustrated. 
 
 Yarns of an Old Mariner. 
 
 By Mrs. Mary Cowden Clarke. Illus- 
 trated by Cruikshank. i6mo. 
 
 Schoolboy Days. 
 
 By W. H. G. Kingston. i6mo. Six- 
 teen illustrations. 
 
 Great Men and Gallant Deeds. 
 
 By J. G. Edgar. i6mo. Illustrated. 
 
 Four books by four noted authors comprise 
 this series, which contains Adventures by Sea 
 and Land, Manly Sports of England, Boy 
 Life in English Schools, Fairy Tales and 
 Legends, — all handsomely illustrated. 
 
 The Great West. 
 
 THE FRONTIER SERIES 
 
 Five vols. Illustrated. Per vol., $1.25. 
 
 Twelve Nights in the Hunters' 
 
 Camp. 
 A Thousand Miles' "Walk Across 
 
 South America. 
 The Cabin on the Prairie. 
 Planting the "Wilderness. 
 The Young Pioneers. 
 
 The romance surrounding the adventurous 
 lives of Western pioneers and immigrants 
 has suggested nearlv as many stories as the 
 chivalric deeds of knight-errantry. These 
 tales of frontier life are, however, as a rule, 
 characterized by such wildness of fancy and 
 such extravagancy of language that we have 
 often wondered whv another Cervantes did 
 not ridicule our border romances by describ- 
 ing a second Don Quixote's adventures or 
 the prairies. We are pleased to notice, tna 
 in the new series of Frontier Tales, by Lei 
 & Shepard, there is an agreeable absence o 
 sensational writing, of that maudlin senti 
 mentality which make the generality of sucl 
 tales nauseous." — Standard. 
 
 h? 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 *^6^i 
 
[QH3&* -. ^G 
 
 i) w 
 
 MISS LOUISE M. THURSTON S 
 
 CHARLEY ROBERTS SERIES. 
 
 To be completed in six vols. Illustrated. 
 Per volume, #1. 
 
 How Charley Roberts Be- 
 came a nVIaru 
 
 How Eva !Roberts Grained. 
 Her Edtacation. 
 
 Charley and Eva's Home 
 
 in the "West. 
 
 (Others in Preparation.) 
 
 In presenting the above new series the publish- 
 ers believe that they are adding to that class of 
 juvenile literature whose intrinsic worth is recog- 
 nized by those who have at heart the good of the 
 young. 
 
 "They are pleasantly written books, descriptive 
 of the struggles and difficulties of Charley and 
 Eva in attaining to manhood and womanhood, 
 and they are well adapted to stimulate a noble 
 ambition in the hearts of young persons." 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 MAY MANNERING'S 
 
 HELPING HAND SERIES. 
 
 Six volumes. Illustrated. Per volume, $1. 
 Climbing the Rope. 
 Billy Gfrimes's Eavorite. 
 
 The Cruise of the IDasha- 
 
 way. 
 
 The Hiittle Spaniard.. 
 Salt "Water Dick. 
 Little Maid of Oxbow. 
 
 " 'May Mannering' is the nom de plume of an 
 agreeable writer for the young folks who possesses 
 more than ordinary ability, and has a thorough 
 comprehension of the way to interest children." — 
 Philadelphia Item, 
 
 "We like the spirit of these books exceedingly, 
 and cordially commend it to the notice of Sabbath 
 School Libraries." — Ladies' Repository. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 "Uartco anu Sttractibe." 
 
 VACATION STORY-BOOKS. 
 
 Six vols. Illust. Per vol., 80 cts. 
 
 "Worth not "Wealth. 
 
 Country Life. 
 
 The Charm. 
 
 Karl Keigler. 
 
 Walter Seyton. 
 
 Holidays at Chestnut Hill. 
 
 ROSY DIAMOND STORY-BOOKS. 
 
 Six volumes. Illustrated. Per vol., 80 cts. 
 
 The Great Rosy Diamond. 
 Daisy, or The Fairy Spectacles. 
 Violet, a Fairy Story. 
 Minnie, or The Little "Woman. 
 The Angel Children. 
 Little Blossom's Seward 
 
 These are delightful works for children. They 
 are all very popular, and have had a wide circula- 
 tion. They are now presented in a new dress. 
 The stories are all amusing and instructive, ex- 
 hibiting human nature in children, and teaching 
 
 some very important practical lessons. 
 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston. 
 
 " .fascinating ana InBtructtbe." 
 
 THE PROVERB SERIES. 
 
 By Mrs. M. E. Bradley and Miss 
 Kate J. Neely. 
 
 Six vols. Illust Per vol., $1. 
 
 Birds of a Feather. 
 
 Fine Feathers do Mot make Fine 
 Birds. 
 
 Handsome is that Handsome does. 
 
 A "Wrong Confessed is half Re- 
 dressed. 
 
 Actions speak louder than "Words. 
 
 One Good Turn deserves another. 
 
 " Each volume is complete in itself, and illus- 
 trates, with a story of most fascinating and in- 
 structive interest, the proverb taken for its title. 
 These are just the kind of books that we like to 
 see in a family or Sunday-school library. They 
 will be read by persons of all ages with deep 
 interest, and afford instructive and entertaining 
 conversation with the children." — 8. S. Journal. 
 
 LEE h SHEPAR& Publishers, Bostoc, <^'