"It is a very unpleasant story; the more so as I was somewhat concerned in it myself," said the Major, slowly filling his long-stemmed glass, and watching the white worm in its stalk, so intently as he recalled all the circumstances he was about to relate, that he did not observe the face of the French gentleman, which was pale as death; and after a short pause, he began as follows:-- "In the onfall at Pont-a-Vendin, it happened that two young Frenchmen who served as gentlemen volunteers with you in the dragoon regiment of Van Wandenberg, had permitted--how, or why, I pretend not to say--the escape of a certain prisoner of distinction. Some said he was no other than M. le Mareschal Villars himself. They claimed a court-martial, but the old baron, who was a savage-hearted Dutchman, insisted that they should be given up unconditionally to his own mercy, and in an evil moment of heedlessness or haste, Marlborough consented, and sent me (I was his aide-de-camp) with a written order to that effect, addressed to Colonel the Baron Van Wandenberg, whose regiment of horse I met 'en route' for St. Venant, about nightfall on a cold and snowy evening in the month of November. "Snow covered the whole country, which was all a dead level, and a cold, leaden-coloured sky met the white horizon in one unbroken line, save where the leafless poplars of some far-off village stood up, the landmarks of the plain. In broad flakes the snow fell fast, and directing their march by a distant spire, the Dutch troopers rode slowly over the deepening fields. They were all muffled in dark blue cloaks, on the capes of which the snow was freezing, while the breath of the men and horses curled like steam in the thickening and darkening air. "Muffled to the nose in a well-furred rocquelaure, with my wig tied to keep the snow from its curls, and my hat flapped over my face, I rode as fast as the deep snow would permit, and passing the rear of the column where, moody and disarmed, the two poor French volunteers were riding under care of an escort I spurred to the baron who rode in front near the kettle drums, and delivered my order; as I did so, recalling with sadness the anxious and wistful glance given me by the prisoners as I passed them.