Lieutenant Thornton looked about him; there was no rod to be seen, nor fishing-basket; but, as they looked along the river, some three hundred yards farther down, they perceived a man fishing, and towards him our hero walked, telling Bill to keep at a little distance. As he advanced, the person fishing looked up, and at once came towards him. Lieutenant Thornton could see he was a tall young man, in a dress very similar to his own, and he could also perceive that he carried his missing rod in his hand, and the basket at his back. “Humph!” muttered our hero; “free and easy, at all events.” But as the young man—evidently a gentleman, and a handsome one to boot—came up, he said, with a polite bow, and a smile— “I hope, monsieur, you will not think I am taking a liberty with your rod and basket, for I suppose they are yours?” “I certainly left them on the bank of the stream, monsieur,” said our hero. “I had just hooked a trout.” “Ah!” interrupted the stranger, “here he is, and a very fine fish, nearly three pounds weight. I had some trouble with him, I assure you; he had run out all your line, and then lay still under the bank, but I secured him with five others, which you will find in your basket.” Now, though the stranger spoke politely, and was a handsome, gentlemanly man of some two or three and thirty years, yet Lieutenant Thornton did not like either the expression of his features, or the keen and inquiring glance he cast over his face and person. “I am obliged to you for your care of my rod,” said the Lieutenant, “which I abandoned heedlessly; but I cannot think of depriving you of the proceeds of your skill; therefore, I pray you keep the fish.” “Oh! not at all,” said the stranger, with a smile; “I can have as many as I like, or require: this part of the stream on both sides for some distance is on my property, and I preserve it.” The colour came into Lieutenant Thornton’s cheek as the stranger spoke these words, and he at once said— “I fear I have unconsciously committed a trespass.” “Not at all, monsieur! not at all! You are, I perceive, quite a stranger to this part of the world; by your accent I should have taken you for an Italian. My name is Gramont; may I have the pleasure of knowing yours? My residence is within half a league, and I shall be most happy, if you are staying in this neighbourhood, to show you better fishing than this stream affords.” “You are very kind,” returned our hero, wishing the trout had swallowed the rod, or that he had not come back to look for it. “My name is De Tourville; I am staying for a few days at Coulancourt, with Monsieur de Plessis.”