at table. Sans-Chagrin, who was not one of the last to felicitate me, though he reproached me with the mystery I had made to him of my love for his cousin, and who foresaw the heavy blow which my intended marriage with Zelia would be to Linval, said, that in order to make the matter as easy as possible, he would take upon him the task of consoling our mutual friend for the loss, and that he would undertake to make him cheerfully face the event which was to accomplish our happiness.

He had scarcely concluded giving us this assurance, when dinner was announced. We all went into the dining-room, and each of us took his place at table. I told Zelia that I preferred that seat which I had occupied the day of my arrival; because it would recal to my most interesting recollections. sented with pleasure, and we

mind the

She con

sat in a

manner which enabled us to carry on what is commonly called the war of the

eye. We were but just in our places when Sans-Chagrin, who thought of every thing, observed to us that one of our guests was wanting, and that was Linval. He was searched for all over the house, without being found. The uneasiness became general, and knowing that he never went out alone, every one began to give way to the most lively alarm, when we saw him enter the room with his arm in a scarf.

The pleasure which we felt at seeing him was counterbalanced by the sight of his wound. We earnestly inquired what accident had befallen him in his absence. He immediately complied, and without further solicitation, gave us an account of a walk he had taken upon the banks of the Rhone, and of an adventure that befell him there.

As this adventure was as singular as unexpected, and besides was connected with long details---and as, over and above

all that, the great talent of a historian is to suspend the interest, by cutting the thread of the narrative and introducing episodes foreign to his work, we postpone the recital of Linval to the next chapter.

CHAPTER XIV.

Linval's story-He meets the Gascon, who com pels him to fight, and wounds him--Linval throws him into the Rhone, and leaves him tồ his fate.

"ON rising from breakfast this morning, I felt an urgent desire to withdraw myself from company for a while, and willing to dissipate the black clouds which in spite of every effort hung over my heart, I left this house, rather like an inanimate machine than a man, and without knowing whither my steps would carry me. Walking forward, I got insensibly to the banks of the Rhone. My eyes wandering I know not whither---sometimes to the majestic waters of the river ---sometimes to the verdant fields on

its margin, were suddenly attracted by a small visto of trees, which appeared to me well suited to the indulgence of meditation---I buried myself among them to ruminate at my ease. I had walked back and forwards several turns, when at one of the extremities which verged upon the river, I perceived a man coming towards me, who seemed buried in reflection. His slow pace enabled me to examine him more at my ease, and I soon recognised him for the Gascon who had accompanied us to Lyons in the Diligence. Still, as he advanced, I had the less difficulty to be convinced that I was not mistaken. This rencounter, which I was far from expecting, and the singularity of the man's appearance, roused me from my melancholy reflections, and brought me to my ordinary condition of mind. The frequent occasions of laughter which he had afforded in the short time we had passed together, seemed to me to promise something new and whimsical. I continued to walk up towards