The O'Hoolohan Roe listened entranced. As the last note died away he grew more fidgety than ever, and moved about uneasily in his chair. The perfumed handkerchief was scarcely ever out of his hand. Evidently, he was endeavouring to screw his courage to the sticking-place. The brunette, ostensibly busy over an embroidery-frame, watched him with an amused look. Berthe toyed with the keys of the piano. 'Captain Chauvin,' he began at last, 'I have something important to say to you--something private.' The brunette rose and left for the inner room. Berthe was preparing to follow her, but the Irishman, whose courage fortunately appeared to re-assert itself as the emergency neared, interposed. 'Stay, ma'amselle,' he said; ''tis of you I would talk; perhaps I may want your assistance.' She sank back in her seat with a puzzled look, regarded him a moment, and reddened with the characters of virgin modesty. Why? The quick instinct of woman had divined the meaning of his visit in his countenance. She was not displeased; who could be displeased at discovering that they are loved? As Berthe turned her eyes from this robust, square-built man, in the palmy vigour of his manhood, and felt that he, so strangely weak and confused at sight of her, did indeed truly, passionately love her with the force of his sanguine temperament, there was a pit-a-pat under her bosom which made it visibly undulate; the blood rose to tropic heat in her veins and poured its tell-tale tide in rosy current over her neck and arms. She was loved--ineffable happiness for woman! Could she help loving in return? There is a yearning in every female breast for sympathy, a sense of void to be filled. Her naïve purity could not refuse the gift she had long desired, long dreamed of; she filled with a gladness which she averted her face to conceal. 'Captain Chauvin,' resumed the Irishman, 'you have been a soldier.' The old Frenchman bowed acquiescence. 'So have I. You have fought under many generals?' 'I fought under the greatest master of war France ever produced, or the world ever crowned with glory!' and the aged voice swelled and the aged eye brightened. 'Did you ever remark that, while some would be cautiously laying their parallels and making all the preparations of military science to take a fortified town, others would trust to luck, rush to the attack at once, and seize the citadel by storm? The gods often favour audacity.' 'The audacity of genius--such audacity as Napoleon possessed. Oh! I admire the brave man who rushes forward boldly to his aim.' The O'Hoolohan Roe was getting more at ease; a smile might even be detected lurking at the corners of his mouth. 'The soldier's life is not always happy, captain; the camp and the barrack have their excitement, but there is a--a--a sort of an emptiness.'