In pursuing these subjects, however, the conversation naturally turned to good Martin Vern, his journey to Bordeaux, and the redemption of my dagger; and, as soon as the subject was mentioned, he exclaimed, "Oh! by-the-way, it is true I did what was, perhaps, not very justifiable on my part, and made good Solomon Ahar do what was not quite right upon his. But, having seen how much you regretted the loss of your weapon; and also having received an unexpected sum, which gave me a few crowns to spare, I went and insisted upon redeeming it, thinking that in a day or two I should join you. I have been forced to wander far enough since," he continued, "but your dagger is quite safe, and with my baggage at Jarnac. One thing, however, I must tell you of, which happened in the redemption of it, and which made me very glad that I had got it out of the Jew's hands, who has now moved from Bordeaux to Paris, as I dare say you have heard." "No," I replied, "I did not hear of his removal. But I can easily conceive that he was not much to your taste. Yet tell me, what was this circumstance which made you glad?" "Doubtless you know the fact yourself already," replied Stuart, "but I discovered it from the Jew. When, much against his will, I had driven him to give it up, good Solomon said, 'Ha! do you know it is hollow, Seigneur Stuart?' And he then showed me, by weighing it against another dagger, with a smaller hilt than it had, that the haft is hollow, and, through a hole where one of the old jewels had fallen out, we clearly saw some folded parchment within. It may be a matter of some consequence, or of none to you, for aught I know. Were you aware of the fact?" I replied in the negative; and, after some farther conversation on the subject, it was determined that, if military operations did not prevent us, we should ride together to Jarnac on the following morning, where I should redeem my dagger, and ascertain what the hilt contained. After that we separated, Stuart retiring to his bed and I to mine; and though for the last five or six days I had borne up with scarcely any rest or repose, I now fell into a profound and heavy slumber, still, motionless, dreamless, more like death itself than sleep. END OF VOL. I. THE M A N-A T-A R M S; OR, HENRY DE CERONS. A ROMANCE. BY G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ., AUTHOR OF "DARNLEY," "DE L'ORME," "CHARLES TYRRELL," "HENRY OF GUISE," "KING'S HIGHWAY," &c., &c. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE. 1855. HENRY DE CERONS. ---------------- CHAPTER I. The day had not far advanced, when some one, shaking me by the arm, roused me from my sleep, and, looking up, I found Stuart already up and fully armed.