Transcriber's Notes: 1. Page scan source: Google Books https://books.google.com/books?id=bZ4xAQAAMAAJ (Cornell University Library) UNDER THE RED DRAGON. A Novel. By JAMES GRANT, AUTHOR OF "THE ROMANCE OF WAR," "ONLY AN ENSIGN," ETC. LONDON: GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE. NEW YORK: 416, BROOME STREET. 1873. CONTENTS. CHAP. I. THE INVITATION. II. THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE. III. BY EXPRESS. IV. WINNY AND DORA LLOYD. V. CRAIGADERYN COURT. VI. THREE GRACES. VII. PIQUE. VIII. SUNDAY AT CRAIGADERYN. IX. THE INITIALS. X. A PERILOUS RAMBLE. XI. THE FETE CHAMPETRE. XII. ON THE CLIFFS. XIII. A PROPOSAL. XIV. THE UNFORESEEN. XV. WHAT THE MOON SAW. XVI. THE SECRET ENGAGEMENT. XVII. WHAT FOLLOWED IT. XVIII. GUILFOYLE. XIX. TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEART. XX. FEARS. XXI. GEORGETTE FRANKLIN. XXII. GEORGETTE FRANKLIN'S STORY. XXIII. TURNING THE TABLES. XXIV. BITTER THOUGHTS. XXV. SURPRISES. XXVI. WITHOUT PURCHASE. XXVII. RECONCILIATION. XVIII. ON BOARD THE URGENT. XXIX. "ICH DIEN." XXX. NEWS OF BATTLE. XXXI. UNDER CANVAS. XXXII. IN THE TRENCHES. XXXIII. THE FLAG OF TRUCE. XXXIV. GUILFOYLE REDIVIVUS. XXXV. THE NIGHT BEFORE INKERMANN. XXXVI. THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER. XXXVII. THE ANGEL OF HORROR. XXXVIII. THE CAMP AGAIN. XXXIX. A MAIL FROM ENGLAND. XL. A PERILOUS DUTY. XLI. THE CARAVANSERAI. XLII. THE TCHERNIMORSKI COSSACKS. XLIII. WINIFRED'S SECRET. XLIV. THE CASTLE OF YALTA. XLV. EVIL TIDINGS. XLVI. DELILAH. XLVII. VALERIE VOLHONSKI. XLVIII. THE THREATS OF TOLSTOFF. XLIX. BETROTHED. L. CAUGHT AT LAST. LI. FLIGHT. LII. BEFORE SEBASTOPOL STILL. LIII. NEWS FROM CRAIGADERYN. LIV. THE ASSAULT. LV. INSIDE THE REDAN. LVI. A SUNDAY MORNING IN THE CRIMEA. LVII. IN THE MONASTERY OF ST. GEORGE. LVIII. HOME. LIX. "A DREAM WHICH WAS NOT ALL A DREAM." LX. A HONEYMOON. LXI. "FOR VALOUR." UNDER THE RED DRAGON. CHAPTER I.--THE INVITATION. "And _she_ is to be there--nay, is there already; so one more chance is given me to meet her. But for what?--to part again silently, and more helplessly bewitched than ever, perhaps. Ah, never will she learn to love me as I love her!" thought I, as I turned over my old friend's letter, not venturing, however, to give utterance to this aloud, as the quizzical eyes of Phil Caradoc were upon me. "A penny for your thoughts, friend Harry?" said he, laughing; "try another cigar, and rouse yourself. What the deuce is in this letter, that it affects you so? Have you put a pot of money on the wrong horse?" "Been jilted, had a bill returned, or what?" suggested Gwynne. "Neither, fortunately," said I; "it is simply an invitation from Sir Madoc Lloyd, which rather perplexes me."