reserved tone, "but it is as honorable as any uniform in the world, and I shall continue to wear it. I observe that English officers on their parole in France wear their uniform and are not molested."

The officer passed on without speaking a word, and, courteously assisting the Quaker lady into the coach, stepped in after her, while Archy climbed up on the box-seat. The steps were put up, the door banged to, the guard winded his horn, the coachman cracked his whip, the four horses dashed forward, and with a lurch and a roar little inferior to the Thunderer's in a gale of wind, the Comet started upon its journey.

The afternoon was dreary, and the wintry sun shone fitfully upon the vast moorlands through which the post-road, like a serpent, wound its way. The wind was cutting, and Archy shivered in spite of his great furred cape. The dreariness of the landscape affected him, and, as he had done many times since that unlucky day off the Texel, he felt sad at heart. He had left the Thunderer with regret at Spithead on her arrival. He had been kindly treated, especially by Admiral Kempenfelt, and, although he had made no friend like Langton, he had found good comradeship in the gun-room of the Thunderer. Before sending him ashore, Admiral Kempenfelt had talked with him kindly, and had advised him to go to his grandfather at Bellingham Castle and there await his exchange. The Admiral had strong hopes that, under certain influences, Archy would return, as the Admiral called it, to his King and country; but he forbore to urge it, seeing in the boy a spirit that was quick to resent any fancied dishonor. He had supplied Archy liberally with money, saying to him at the time: "This will not be too much in case Lord Bellingham refuses to see you; for, mark you, my lad, you have a queer case for a grandfather, and what he will do only himself and God Almighty know, so you had better be prepared for emergencies. However, I think you can take care of yourself. Good-bye, and good luck to you!"

Those were the last kind words Archy had heard. In London, being no wiser than any other harum-scarum midshipman who found his pockets full, for the first time, Master Archy had treated himself with great liberality. The playhouses, several cock-fights, excursions by land and water, and a showy outfit had consumed Archy's week in London and Admiral Kempenfelt's money, except the one rouleau of gold, which he exhibited as if he had a bank vault full of them. The subject of his finances deeply engaged Archy's attention as the Comet plunged along the dreary road in the fast-gathering gloom. Occasionally they stopped to take up or let off passengers, but at the last stage—a small village where they changed horses—Archy observed that they had exactly the same complement with which they had started—the officer, the student, the bagman, the Quakeress, and the pert young woman.

As they dashed up to the door of a small and uninviting inn about dark, the landlord bustled out with a candle in his hand, and, addressing the coachman in a loud voice meant for the passengers, began:

"Have you heard the news? The coach returning by Barham Heath was stopped last night about this time and every single shilling taken from the passengers. If the ladies and gentlemen feels squeamish about going on to-night, I can give them good beds—excellent beds. The Bishop of Carlisle slept here a week ago, and his lordship was pleased to say he slept well. And I have lately brewed. His lordship liked the brew exceedingly—"

A shriek from the pert young woman interrupted this.

"O-o-o-h!" she screamed. "One of them dreadful highwaymen! I understand as they frequently kisses the ladies besides robbing them. Pray, Mr. Landlord, did you hear as any of the ladies was kissed?"

"Don't know, ma'am," replied the landlord, with a grin, "but if you meets a highwayman, and axes him—"

"None of your impudence, sir," tartly responded the young woman. "My sister's husband is cousin to one of the aldermen at Carlisle, and if you don't behave yourself respectful to me I'll have your license took away!" At which landlord, passengers, postilions, and stable-boys united in laughing—the coachman only maintaining a stolid gravity.

While the horses were being put to, the passengers went into the tap-room to warm themselves, all except Archy and the officer. Just as Archy was stretching his legs in a brisk walk before the tavern door, to his surprise the officer stepped up to him.

"Sir," said he, "I perceive that, like myself, you have pistols. Now, the instant I put my eyes on our coachman I thought I recognized a man whom I had seen tried for robbery and acquitted at the Old Bailey for lack of evidence; and I am willing to credit him with being a rascal of the first water, and I should not be surprised if he proves it before we get to the end of our journey. We may have to look to our arms, perhaps."

"Mine will be found in good order, sir," responded Archy, greatly pleased to be so addressed by a military man so much older than himself, and to whom he had felt a strong and instant attraction.

"May I ask how far you are going?" inquired the officer.

"To the village of Bellingham. My grandfather lives at the Castle."

The two were standing in the light of a lantern hung from the tavern porch, and Archy saw a start of surprise on the officer's part. He was silent for a moment or two, and, in spite of the habitual self-possession which was visibly a part of his nature, he did not recover himself at once; and when he spoke Archy felt a change in the tone and manner of his new acquaintance.

"All danger will be passed as soon as we reach Bellingham. Our young Oxford friend has a sword and the bagman a stout stick, but pistols are the weapons against highway-robbers. I am glad you have yours—and keep your eye on the coachman."

"Don't you think, sir," said Archy, eagerly, "that we had better keep our pistols out of sight as far as possible? For if they see we are armed they may not attack us."

"My dear sir," answered the officer, petulantly, "you speak as if to be held up by highwaymen was a privilege to be sought, not a danger to be avoided. I am afraid you are a hot-headed young man."

"The fact is," was Archy's half-sheepish and half-triumphant reply, "I like to see life—and you know, sir, to be stopped on the road by a determined Claude Duval kind of a fellow is rather er—"

"Pleasant," sarcastically suggested the officer; "deuced pleasant. I have often observed of you youngsters that to tell you that a thing is dangerous is generally to put a premium on your doing it. And when it is foolish, besides—zounds, there's no holding you back! But let me tell you, Mr. Midshipman, when you have had my share of hard knocks you will be a little more willing to keep out of them than you are now. For my part, I hope this tattling landlord is lying, and this rascally coachman has turned honest man. Meanwhile, keep your eyes open."

By that time the horses were put to, and the guard's horn summoned the passengers to get in, and the Comet started off.

The first few miles lay through the same flat, moorland country they had previously traversed, but presently they entered a straggling wood, with a hedge and ditch on both sides. It was now perfectly dark, except for the moon occasionally struggling through the clouds. Within the coach, the Oxonian, a waggish fellow, was amusing himself with telling blood-curdling tales to the gentle Quakeress and the young woman, which last took refuge in groans and smelling salts, and vowed if