back to her, their paths did not run parallel, it was not likely he would ever see her again, he had no desire but to go right on; and yet he was conscious of a delicious feeling towards her, passing the love of a brother. Again his heart formed a prayer; it was for her conversion.

Then he thought of that benevolent old woman, Mother Agnes. Those deep violet-blue eyes, that expressive smile, so lovely even in age,—what must they have been at the age of Lisa? That spontaneous kindness, that cheerfulness and activity, which made her a match for any one in the family; how richly Heaven had endowed her with gifts that no money could purchase! Insensible and unimpressionable, nevertheless, to everything relating to spiritual life! Could such an one go on to the end, along the broad path leading to destruction, chatting and smiling as she went? No. He had faith that God must have marked her for his own.

Then, those two pretty boys, with voices like larks, and faces like cherubs-if he were a father, he should like two just such curly, chubby, funny, loving little rogues to be his own.

Lord Coldingham again; with so much to be

proud of, and no pride-those two high-born, high-minded girls, with intellect and purity stamped on their open brows-and that jocund, light-hearted young fellow in the rumble, up to anything, equal to anything!-Claude's thoughts were presently off to merry England.

And now, just as night is falling, he enters Bonn. Lord Coldingham is there also, but they put up in very different quarters.

THOUGH daylight had scarcely faded, the

:

enormous saloon of the Hotel de l'Etoile, in which a hundred and fifty persons were seated at the table d'hôte, was in a blaze of illumination scores of waiters were hurrying hither and thither, presenting dishes to each guest in succession, or bearing immense piles of plates; a noisy band performing opera airs was nearly drowned in the clatter of knives and forks and the hum of many voices; and it occurred to John Perry that there could hardly have been more hubbub at Belshazzar's Feast.

At the more plebeian table of the Boule d'Or, in the bourgeois quarter of the city, Claude found a number of shaggy, heavy-headed tradesmen, supping together instead of in the bosom of their

own families; each with a long pipe that nearly reached from his mouth to the floor, and with a pint of wine before him. They were so obscured in a cloud of smoke of their own raising, that Claude, whom the smell of tobacco always affected with nausea, felt his best refuge would be in bed. As soon, therefore, as he had discussed his frugal meal, he retired to his chamber, and slept profoundly till daybreak.

When he awoke, the blue Rhine was trembling and sparkling in the rising sun. He sprang up, dressed, prayed, partook his early breakfast, and hastened to the river-side. In passing a cross street, he saw a man just turning out of sight in advance of him, whom he knew in a moment to be his old persecutor: and could hardly help smiling to think that, this time, he saw him, himself unseen. But what if his old foe, unseen, had seen him already? overnight? He had.

Claude found his way to the steam-boat, which was moored close alongside the quay, apart from it only the length of a plank. He entered it at once; the men were at their breakfasts, sitting about the deck, and exchanging a few words, now and then, with a few companions sitting on the

quay. Claude took out his little Bible and began to read to himself. Presently a lull in the conversation ensued: shortly afterwards, a man with his mouth full observed, "Come, master, as you are amusing yourself, you may as well amuse us. Read us a spell."

Claude, looking up at him, and then all around on his audience, whom he took in at a glance, immediately raised his right arm and hand before him, with a gesture that, had it not been so perfectly natural to him, might have been called theatrical, but, as it was, had something in it singularly impressive; and after a single moment's pause, that was just sufficient to fasten every eye upon him, he burst forth in his soul-stirring manner, with

Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come! buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.'"

-And so on to the end of the chapter. The effect was electrical. The men drew about him, rapt, absorbed; just as we see them portrayed in one of Pinelli's etchings, grouped on the quay of Naples, listening to an improvisatore who sings