Walter's heart swelled: had he travelled thus far, and reached the palace of his King, only to be repulsed from its gates? His colour came and went, as, with a painful mixture of pride and humility, he replied-- "Mon camarade, I am a poor Scots officer, exiled from his native country, and who has come here to take service in France." The face of the Frenchman flushed, and his eye glistened, as he drew himself up, and presented arms. "Behold my commission," continued Walter; "I would speak with my noble Lord and Colonel the Earl of Dunbarton." "Aha," replied the sentinel, "il est bon soldat, Monsieur Dunbartong. Passez, Monsieur officier; un gentilhomme est toujours un gentilhomme, et les braves officiers Eccossais sonts l'admiration de la France!" Walter bowed at this compliment, the gate was opened by the porters, and, with a heart full of thoughts too deep for words, he found himself within the gloomy quadrangle of the palace of St. Germain-en-laye. Left for some minutes to himself, he stood, bundle in hand, irresolutely surveying, with a dejected and crest-fallen air, the great and silent court. A gentleman in very plain attire, with a short wig, a well-worn beaver, and steel-hilted sword, who was slowly promenading under the arcade, suddenly turned, and the wanderer was greeted by his old friend Finland. "Welcome to the poor cheer of St. Germain-en-laye!" cried this merry soldier (whom no fall of fortune could daunt), grasping Walter's hand. "My bon camarade, welcome to France. By all the devils, I was often grieved for thee, poor lad, and deemed thou wert doing penance in some rascally Tolbooth for our brave camisade in the north." Walter was so much oppressed in spirit, and so weak in mind and body, that the tears rushed into his eyes, and he could only press his hand in silence. "What the devil----my poor lad, thou seemest very faint and exhausted!" "I have travelled on foot from Boulogne-sur-mer. I spent my last franc at St. Juste, my last sou an hour ago for a glass of vin ordinaire, and for three days no food has passed my lips." "My God!" exclaimed Finland, striking his flushed forehead, "and my last tester went for dinner today! how shall I assist you? Travelling for three days without food! Surely the fortunes of the cavaliers are now at the lowest ebb." "Then the tide must flow again." "I now begin to fear it will flow no more for us. What says the player? 'There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.'