“No, William; strong in gratitude to my husband. I feel a woman’s weakness in the heart, and love and duty by turns obtain its mastery. William, neither you nor I have yet seen two-and-twenty summers; and at that age, friendship is too close akin to love to be encouraged. My husband dare not assist you to escape--_I dare, and will_. Prudence tells us to separate; and the act that would sully the honest reputation of the old soldier, is not dishonourable in his wife. Yes--it shall be done. I have already devised means for your deliverance, and when my plan is fully matured, you shall know all. Farewell. Let us not meet in future but in my husband’s presence.” She stooped her cheek to me, I kissed it, next moment she quitted the supper-room, and I returned to my chamber, to marvel how much strength and weakness, principle and passion, can be united in a woman’s heart! The following day the governor returned. I, as usual, took my place at the dinner-table, and Nina met me with smiles. She seemed perfectly at ease, I, also, exerted myself to be cheerful, and none would have suspected that secret love was lurking in the bosoms of us both. “I would that you had witnessed the review,” said the old soldier. “It was, indeed, a splendid spectacle. And the Emperor looked so delighted as the troops filed past! Well he might, a nobler or more perfect _corps d’armée_ never was collected. Egad, the sight warmed this old blood again; and I think there’s stuff in me for another campaign. Will you, William, take charge of Madame and Claudine?” said the commandant, laughingly. I made some indifferent reply--Nina’s eye met mine--it seemed to say, the charge would have been a dangerous one. We heard the inner gate of the fortress open, a horse’s feet clattered along the pavement, and, in a short time, a _chasseur à cheval_ presented himself, and delivered a despatch to the commandant. The moment the seal was broken the old man’s eye turned to me. “It is,” he said, “an answer to the memorial I handed to the Emperor yesterday. I petitioned for your liberty, William; and stated, in as warm language as I could, the grounds on which I asked the favour. I know, even from the promptness of the reply, that my application has been rejected. Well, it is only what I was prepared for. Let us read the terms of the refusal. lia! I know the handwriting; it is that of my old comrade, Duroc. “‘I am desired, by his Majesty the Emperor, to acknowledge the receipt of a petition from Captain St. Simon. Its prayer, that the English sailor, William Rawlings, shall be set at liberty, is hereby peremptorily rejected.’’ “I thought so,” said the commandant with a sigh, as he let the paper fall upon the floor. A deep and painful silence succeeded, while Claudine picked the letter up and handed it to her mother. “Read it, Nina--we know the worst.”