mask on

uttering stifled sobs.

-rief exhibition of conjugal sorrow, Mrs. Drakeford's nerves
ently restrung to enable her to resume the conversation.
ou seen anything of the Count?" she asked, languidly.
the truth, I am glad of
eplied the Doctor.

And, to tell

you

-I begin to think he's not over respect

use my saying so—

keford felt a strong inclination to laugh at her friend's simas this was not a moment for mirth she suppressed it.

?" she inquired.

tor thereupon related what he knew of Lorn's imprisonment sequent release.

ne may be deceived!" cried Mrs. Drakeford. "I thought him ul of honour!"

my doubts," said the wise Doctor, "the very last time I sat ards with him. We played at écarté, and he held or turned

very time."

you lost your money.

י!

I dare say, then, I've lost mine!"

Money he borrowed of me. Being Drakeford's friend, I lent he wanted."

it much?"

eat deal too much for me to lose. A hundred pounds. What
and Drakeford's accident, I'm left quite high and dry."
let you have" said the Doctor, hesitating.

rakeford's eyes sparkled once more with their wonted brilliancy.
not originally intended to raise the wind in this quarter, but as
rtunity came so pat she could not resist it.

are the best creature in the world!" she said, "and the only would put myself under such an obligation to. Could you fifty? I must pay the police, and God knows who besides, to hunt up this ungrateful gurl."

Doctor's desk was open in a moment, and the sum named placed s unreluctant hand, which was not hastily withdrawn, because at time it was tenderly squeezed.

hadn't the best spirits possible," she said, as she tucked her onnaie with the Doctor's notes into that ready receptacle, her With a runaway I don't know what would become of me!

r, a husband in quod, and the man I lent my money to a thief meat, and everything that's bad, I've got it pretty well all round don't you think, Doctor? But I can't stop longer now. I must ne quivvy, if I hope to do any good."

have

u'll let me know if you
be sure I will! Good-by!"

any news

of Esther ?"

timid to run the risk of being again called "a Black,"-though y gave him the chance, the Doctor once more squeezed Mrs. ord's hand, and she departed.

The only intended to apply to the police en dernier ressort, a visit

ས་ ས་ཅ་ཙས VI༦ VUIuuHau Harley-street.

to his master s nouse in

Sir William Cumberland was as much surprised as the Doctor had been at the apparition of Mrs. Drakeford.

"You have brought me good news, I hope," he said, as he rose with Some little difficulty to greet her, for his old enemy, the gout, was hovering over him and threatening a descent.

"I'm afraid you won't think so, Sir William," returned his ally," when ou've heard what I've got to tell you."

"Is she ill?" he asked, with an air of tender anxiety.

"God knows! She was well enough when I saw her last."

"Saw her last!" echoed Sir William.

"Yes. Not to mince the matter,-she's gone! Disappeared suddenly esterday afternoon, while my back was turned for a moment." "Disappeared! Where? How?"

"Lord only knows! I wish I did."

"Pray explain yourself a little more clearly."

"I will if I can, but I'm almost heartbroken,-on your account, Sir William, more even than on that of my poor child."

The handkerchief was here resorted to for a few moments. When it
as withdrawn, the lady, in an agitated voice, continued :
"Everything was going on charmingly for your interests. I had got
r to listen quite attentively to all I said in your favour. The bracelet
u sent quite won her heart; she put it on directly, and did nothing but
nire it, saying it was so kind of you to think of her. Of course I
n't let the opportunity slip, but struck while the iron was hot, and I
ly do think I should have got her in a little while to agree to any-
ng I proposed, when, as ill-luck would have it, a person came to see me
business, and I was obliged to leave the room. Half an hour after,

n I came back, she was nowhere to be found!"
And have you seen or heard nothing of her sinee?"

If I had seen her I shouldn't have come here alone. As to hearing, 1 hear that she crossed the river and went to Richmond, but though up till midnight she never came back. You may fancy my feelings ghout the whole blessed night. You might have wrung my piller, is so wet with crying."

here was as much truth in this statement as answered Mrs. Drake; purpose. Had she told Sir William that Esther had scornfully re1 his presents and despised his character, or hinted the suspicionsthe open letter she had left behind her suggested the chances Mrs. Drakeford feared, that his ardour might have cooled, and he, sted with so many difficulties, have abandoned the affair altogether; y making it appear that accident and not inclination had caused r's flight, his vanity remained intact, and no personal susceptibility vakened. Not to deprive him of hope was still to lure him on, to tent, at all events, of ensuring her own profit, whatever the issue be with respect to his success with Esther. The only question, for ›ment, was the nature of the accident to which her sudden disap

ly, then, to Sir William's question, who wished to know if she lue at all to guide her, she said:

re is one circumstance, and one only, which throws a little-ever -light on the matter. When people are not rightly acquainted the particulars of their birth and parentage-and this is Esther's r you know, Sir William, though I call her my daughter, she is porn child, but another's, which she was left in charge with me ler age, and never a word fell from my lips on the subject to her, e mentioned before,-when things of this kind happens, there's penings to explanations at some time or other, and that's what I n the present instance. Esther did receive a letter yesterday was called away, without time to ask her who it came from, and ave been one of those anommulous communications that one reads 1 by nobody, and offering to give information of importance, as of writers always says. This is the only way in which I can for her going off in such a hurry."

William, who listened attentively to this speech, could arrive at no inion. What was to be done?

Mrs. Drakeford had a legitimate occasion for drawing upon Sir s purse and replenishing her own.

must offer a handsome reward. Advertise her in the second of the Times. I'm no scholar myself, Sir William, so can't write ou can."

ou'll tell me what to say," replied the Baronet.

that's easy," rejoined Mrs. Drakeford. "We have only to say

= see!"

all her cleverness, an effective advertisement was not so simple a she supposed, but after several sheets of paper had been spoilt, them they managed to draw up a sufficiently touching appeal, and akeford, entrusting no agent with her secret, hurried off with it ng House-square, leaving Sir William a prey to a thousand conensations, for some of which love was responsible; for the rest, ing gout.

M. DUMAS, père, has recently collected, in two volumes and under the suggestive title of "Les Morts Vont Vîte," various à propos biographies of eminent men, which have up to this time remained buried in the feuilletons of newspapers. We believe that this is the first occasion in which Alexander the Great has attempted what may be termed contemporary biography, and his treatment is so eminently characteristic that we feel disposed, with our readers' permission, to give a few extracts.

The first on the list is Chateaubriand, and Dumas manages to institute in ingenious parallel between him and the elder Napoleon, because both eroes were born in 1769. The following sentence will prove the treatnent: "One was destined to be emperor by the sword, the other king by hought one was to reconstruct overthrown society, the other was to nd again a religion that was lost." In 1791 the youthful poet proceeded › America, but we need not dwell on the episode of his travels, for very one who has read his works-and who has not?-must know them by eart. We are all aware by this time that Dumas has no objection to make copy" of extracts from published works, and in the present volumes he is abused that faculty. It is curious to remark that almost at the same ne when Chateaubriand was all but lost at Niagara, a young lieutenant the name of Napoleon Bonaparte had a narrow escape from drowning ile bathing in the Saône. Again, on the self-same day when the poet nt aboard the vessel that was to bear him back to the aid of his king, poleon, leaning against a tree, was looking at the same king, showing self on the Tuileries terrace in a Phrygian cap. No sooner had the ing poet reached France than he married. Great changes had taken ce, and Chateaubriand's feelings revolted at the sight of the men who ruled affairs: he resolved to emigrate, but, unhappily, he had no ney. With great difficulty he borrowed 12,000 francs of a lawyer, was induced by a friend to gamble, and lost 10,500 francs. He ed the rest in his pocket, and went home; but when he felt for his ket-book, it was gone: he must have left it in the hackney-coach. kily a priest had hailed the vehicle after Chateaubriand had got out, d the pocket-book, and returned it to him the next day. Whereupon poet and his brother made the best of their way to Brussels. eaubriand, who had once on a time been captain of the Royal ds, was glad to march to the siege of Thionville as a private. As he hed along he met a horseman, who asked him, "Where are you ?""To fight." "What is your name?" "M. de Chateaubriand. yours ?" "Frederick William." It was the King of Prussia, who as he rode away, "There I recognise the nobility of France."" e poet was not born to fight: he was wounded, received a bullet lodged in the manuscript of " Atala," which he carried in his breast, stly was attacked by small-pox. As he walked along the streets of r, trembling with fever, a poor woman threw an old blanket over ulders; it was the only one she possessed. Says M. Dumas, "St. , who was canonised, only gave the poor man half his cloak." On g Namur, Chateaubriand fell into a trench, and was picked up by

s, who did not guess

an would publish would enrich three or four bookaneers,"
He was on the point
ates against the poor wounded man."
his brother came to his aid, and gave him one-half the
e possessed. He also proposed to remove him, but fortu-
He went to a barber's where
et was too ill to follow him.

his brother returned to France, where the guillotine was . When convalescent, Chateaubriand proceeded to Enghe doctors warned him that his fighting days were over. his pen, wrote his "Essais," and sketched the plan of the Christianisme." At the same time, for a bare livelihood, he oks, for which he was paid at the rate of twenty shillings per as during this period that he was assisted by the Royal d, to which he so eloquently alluded on a later occasion. In ubriand returned to France, and dedicated to the First Consul the "Genius of Christianity." Of this dedication, which Dumas supplies the following copy:

TO GENERAL BONAPARTE, FIRST CONSUL.

-You have been kind enough to take under your protection this "Genius of Christianity." It is a new proof of the favour you august cause which triumphs under the protection of your power. le to refrain from seeing in your destiny the hand of that Provielected you for the accomplishment of her prodigious designs. The rd you: France, aggrandised by your victories, has set her hopes you began to support on religion the basis of the state and of rity. Continue to hold out your hand to thirty millions of who pray for you at the base of the altars you have restored to a profound respect, general, your very humble and most obedient

CHATEAUBRIAND.

ward for the dedication, Chateaubriand was appointed to acIn 1804 he returned to France, but Cardinal Fesch to Rome. of the murder of the Duc d'Enghien, he tore across his appointargé d'affaires to the Valais and sent it back to the First Conen began his travels in the Holy Land, the narrative of which is all of us. "Les Martyrs" appeared in 1809; and Napoleon,

ng

from Spain, found Chateaubriand's name on all lips. In Emperor had established a decennial prize for the greatest ork produced during that period, and he ordered the Academy the report. Unfortunately Cæsar had forgotten to express and the academicians, aware that Chateaubriand was in dist in a report, in which the "Genius of Christianity" was disby its absence. Napoleon ordered this to be rectified, and, Chateaubriand was appointed to the Academy, vice Marie hénier, deceased. Unfortunately, the new academician had to panegyric of his predecessor, and employed such strong lanat the Emperor prohibited its utterance.

the defeat of the Emperor, Chateaubriand made his appearance -litical arena, with his pamphlet "De l'Empereur et des Bour