"Yes; one thing at least I have learnt, in all my experiments on poor humanity;--never to see a man do a wrong thing, without feeling that I could do the same in his place. I used to pride myself on that once, fool that I was, and call it comprehensiveness. I used to make it an excuse for sitting by, and seeing the devil have it all his own way, and call that toleration. I will see now whether I cannot turn the said knowledge to a better account, as common sense, patience, and charity; and yet do work of which neither I nor my country need be ashamed." He walked down, and on to the bridge of boats. They opened in the centre; as he reached it a steamer was passing. He lounged on the rail as the boat passed through, looking carelessly at the groups of tourists. Two ladies were standing on the steamer; close to him; looking up at Ehrenbreitstein. Was it?--yes, it was Sabina, and Marie by her! But ah, how changed! The cheeks were pale and hollow; dark rings--he could see them but too plainly as the face was lifted up toward the light--were round those great eyes, bright no longer. Her face was listless, careworn; looking all the more sad and impassive by the side of Sabina's, as she pointed smiling and sparkling, up to the fortress; and seemed trying to interest Marie in it, but in vain. He called out. He waved his hand wildly, to the amusement of the officers and peasants who waited by his side; and who, looking first at his excited face, and then at the two beautiful women, were not long in making up their minds about him; and had their private jests accordingly. They did not see him, but turned away to look at Coblentz; and the steamer swept by. Stangrave stamped with rage--upon a Prussian officer's thin boot. "Ten thousand pardons!" "You are excused, dear sir, you are excused," says the good-natured German, with a wicked smile, which raises a blush on Stangrave's cheek. "Your eyes were dazzled; why not? it is not often that one sees two such suns together in the same sky. But calm yourself; the boat stops at Coblentz." Stangrave could not well call the man of war to account for his impertinence; he had had his toes half crushed, and had a right to indemnify himself as he thought fit. And with a hundred more apologies, Stangrave prepared to dart across the bridge as soon as it was closed. Alas! after the steamer, as the fates would have it, came lumbering down one of those monster timber rafts; and it was a full half hour before Stangrave could get across, having suffered all the while the torments of Tantalus, as he watched the boat sweep round to the pier, and discharge its freight, to be scattered whither he knew not. At last he got across, and went in chase to the nearest hotel: but they were not there; thence to the next, and the next, till he had hunted half the hotels in the town; but hunted all in vain.