slightly, and with a careless negligent air, to M. Malartie, who returned the salute with ostentatious formality, and gazed fixedly at Hubert before he seated himself.

"You have sent for me, and I am here," he said, speaking in French, but with oriental briefness. The voice was low and soft, like the notes of a piano gently, but firmly, touched; but there was something about the manner of speaking which prevented the idea of effeminacy rising in the mind. The words were slowly uttered-each sound had a full-measured force and the distinctness of the enunciation seemed an index of mental power and clearness. It was one of those soft voices capable of being heard at a great distance. It struck one as remarkable.

The person of Mazuffer was no less worthy of notice. Hubert had expected to see a soldier-like figure-something like that of Antoine. He was mistaken: Mazuffer looked as though, if he had been born in another age, he would have been a priest-not a warrior. Men would have knelt to confess to him, and the words in which that strangely melodious and calm voice might have enjoined penance or conferred absolution, would have thrilled through their souls.

Small in stature, and slight and delicate in limb, his flexible figure might have been mistaken for that of an oriental rather than an European; but a glance at the head dispelled the illusion. It was such a head as might stand in the picture of an old religious painter for that of a saint, a hermit, or a martyr. The forehead, high, broad, and square, occupied full half the face, and looked larger than it was, from the delicacy and attenuation of the other features. The eyes, large, but sunken, glistened under it like black beads, inclosing fiery sparks, and set in silver. The nose was straight, long, and rather pointed; the cheeks, hollow and cavernous; and the thin black moustache and straggling beard but ill concealed a mouth with closely set lips, like a straight thin line; and a curved, pointed, projecting chin, which, in profile, gave to the lower half of the face a crescent-like look. The complexion, probably originally pale, had been burnt by the hot sun of the East into a dark shade with a sallow tinge. You could not guess at the age of the man, though there was an appearance of vigor which indicated that he had not passed the period of middle life. Such was the person who said calmly and softly, "You have sent for me I am here;" and then sat perfectly still, except that the sinews

on the backs of his thin hands, which were crossed before him, played like whipcords bearing a heavy strain; and his fiery, though subdued, eyes shifted from Hubert to M. Malartie and back again.

The Governor showed his embarrassment

more plainly than ever. He could lean upon the stalwart manly mind of Hubert with a sense of support; but he shrank from, and trembled at, the subtle penetrating nature of Mazuffer Ali. He ruffled his hair till it was as rough and rugged as the mane of an unbroken colt, hemmed twice or thrice, and seemed at a loss how to begin the conference. Mazuffer took no notice, or appeared to take no notice, of these tokens; and sat calm and patient as a sculptured effigy upon a tomb, waiting for the Governor to speak. "This "

M. Malartie began at last. he hesitated for the appellation he should bestow upon Hubert. His ancient breeding prompted him to say gentleman "-his republican position suggested "citizen." He compromised between the two impulses by obeying neither; he only pointed to Hubert, leaving Mazuffer to fill up the blank for himself. "This is the "-M. Malastie got no further than that. He might have been freer of tongue, but the burning eye of the envoy was upon him, casting a light to the bottom of his shallow nature. There was a magnetism in the glance as in that of the rattlesnake-which confused the faculties of weaker minds, and prevented M. Malartie from telling Hubert's position.

Hubert saw at this point that the Governor would be worse than useless to him-that he must speak for himself.

"I am an agent of the French Directorythe bearer of important plans relating to the destruction of the British power in India". and, as Hubert spoke, he pointed to the documents upon the table.

The dark eyes at this interruption slowly left the face of M. Malartie, and fixed themselves upon those of Hubert. They took no notice of the direction of the finger pointing to the papers upon the table. The sinews of the thin hands worked more nervously; and after a pause, the soft low voice-as calm, and emotionless, and distinct as ever, said—" You are not a Frenchman."

Hubert had measured his man too well to attempt concealment. He felt that the moment of peril had come. He knew, without looking at the pale agitated face of the Governor, that M. Malartie, notwithstanding his position, was incapable of protecting him against such a

man as Mazuffer Ali; he must protect himself. He answered boldly, "I am not."

"You are an Englishman." The eye glared a little more brightly, but the voice was calm

as ever.

"I am an Irishman.”

"Of English descent-with English blood in your veins. It is the same."

The remark was a true one. Mazuffer was skilled in the signs of race. Most of the Irish nobility-and Hubert came of a noble race— are Saxon in blood.

Mazuffer Ali sat as still as ever. His air showed that he had stated an objection, and waited for an explanation.

Hubert answered, "You, a Frenchman, and an envoy of a Mussulman Sultan, can understand that the ties of race and allegiance can be broken."

It was a bold reply; and the brow of the renegade contracted a little as this allusion to him rolled back the attack upon himself. Presently, however, the frown passed away like the ripple caused by a transient breeze on the surface of a calm lake beneath the shadow of tall mountains; and the voice, soft and low as before, replied-"I am following the interests of France, and endangering those of England."

That was a home thrust. The ties of country and of race still clung to the renegade, and his actions were consistent with them. That short sentence-like a sharp glittering knife severing a knot-had at one stroke cut through the parallel Hubert had attempted to set up. There was no comparison between their positions. He reviewed his situation at a glance. There was but one thing to do-to trust this man with the truth. He could trust him. Taciturn as he wasdeeply as he concealed his feelings-destitute as he seemed of sympathy, or emotion, or passion-there was an indefinable something about him which invoked confidence. He had the character of a confessor. Hubert resolved that he would tell him his story. But there was the feeling that he should not like M. Malartie to hear it-and his eye glanced uneasily at the Governor, as he said "I think I could make you understand my case.

Mazuffer seemed to read the thought, which the words only obscurely expressed, as though by instinct. Turning to the Governor, he said "If you will allow it, we would be alone."

The request, though made with an air of politeness, sounded in the ears of Hubert and M. Malartie like a command, and the latter

was only too glad to obey it. As the conference had proceeded, his face had assumed a look of more hopeless helplessness, and his manner had become more nervous. In his agitation, he had unconsciously torn one of the papers before him nearly in two. He rose to go at once, with an expression of his happiness in placing his apartment at the service of Mazuffer Ali. Mazuffer attended him to the door, watched his retreating steps along the passage-shot the bolt of the lock, and returned to his seat.

The old instincts of force came upon the mind of Hubert. They were alone. He could crush that thin man out of life; and M. Malartie would be rather grateful than indignant. Perhaps his face expressed something of his thoughts. When he looked up, the thin fingers of Mazuffer were playing with the jewelled butt of a pistol, which just peeped from the folds of his robe; and a smile, almost imperceptibly, moved his thin lips. It was not fear that restrained Hubert; it was the sympathy the bold ever have for the bold which kept him from springing upon his companion.

Mazuffer seemed to note the changeful play of feelings in the mind of Hubert, as an artist notes the effect of the fleeting variations of light and shade in a landscape he is intent on studying. When the shadow passed away, and the open honest light shone again, he pushed back the pistol into its hiding-place, and remarked quietly, "The young and strong are often apt to use force, but thought is the true instrument of power." He said this, as though inferring that he was older than Hubert. There was no anger in his voice and manner. He seemed to recognize a natural instinct, not a personal animosity. Then he added, "Now we are alone, you can speak."

Hubert threw off all reserve, except upon one point. He sketched his poverty-stricken infancy-his struggling tempted boyhoodhis unguided manhood. He told the history of the island-of his mental struggles-of his realized hopes of his blighted happiness. He spoke, too, of his desert life-of his captivity with the Arabs-of his escape-and of the incidents of his passage in the Rotterdam. Mazuffer sat still all the while, and listened calmly. His eyes never left the lips of the speaker; not a muscle of his dark thin face moved; but for the working of the sinews of his brown thin hands, which were crossed before him, he might have been mistaken for a statue. When Hubert ceased, his low distinct voice said,

A softer expression came for a moment over Mazuffer's face, as he replied, "I have been young enough to know such feelings-sensitive enough to understand how they fetter the tongue with the bonds of silence. I am old enough to have lost all but their memory.' He paused for a minute, and the old look came back again. Then he went on, "I can trust you."

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Mazuffer rose as he said this, and walked to the table. Hubert, with his quick perception, remarked the step and bearing, and saw that they were as remarkable as the rest of the traits of character which his new acquaintance exhibited. He seemed, at first, to stoop, but a second glance showed that the body was erect; the head and neck only leaning forward in such a way that the face did not look downward, but kept a perpendicular direction. The tread, too, was at once measured and cautious, and firmly elastic. The small thin feet, only partially covered by light slippers, were as nervously active as the delicately formed embrowned hands.

Trifling remarks these-yes; but trifles are suggestive. Those who observe correctly, know that in them must be read the tendencies of strong natures, which keep down and suppress all other outward signs of the vigorous mental action going on within.

The Mysorean envoy sat down at the table in the seat of the Governor, and began an examination of the papers. He did not ask any questions. Rapidly he scanned one document after another, so rapidly as to excite the wonder of Hubert. When he had finished, he thought for a minute or two, and then began to speak in a lower tone than usual, as if thinking to himself, rather than giving information to Hubert.

without General Buonaparte and his army, if all the rest be as you say, this English power may be shaken."

"Shaken! yes; but can it be overthrown? that is the question. These Englishmen endure hard shakings; it takes actual ruin to break their spirits.

"A vigorous attack, now that they are unprepared, would go far toward it," Hubert replied.

"You do not know these Orientals? No. I do. A few thousand European troops to give steadiness to their array, would make success all but certain. Without that, attack would be destruction. These English are stronger for defence than for aggression. In a month they would draw together to defend their own territory; and they have a man, not a child, at their head. In the disguise of a corn-dealer, I made a journey to Madras, to see the Governor, who will command their troops. A knowledge of the men you have to deal with, is as necessary as the possession of power to deal with them. He is full old for the field, but strong and vigorous. A large, deep-chested, square-headed man, with a calm grey eye, and a full resolute mouth. Slow to move; but hard to be cast down. The buffalo bull waits for the spring of the tiger, and throws his foe back from his horns. This man is like a buffalo. He would meet our rush, and beat us back."

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Superior in intellect; but inferior in energy," thought Hubert, who said aloud, You propose to wait then? Waiting is a cold policy."

He

Mazuffer plucked a few hairs from his head; among them were some white as silver. pointed to them, "Wisdom is always coldcold as the color which clothes the head to which time has given experience. Feeling is warm, but foolish. Yes, I purpose to wait till we have Europeans to oppose to Europeans. What I doubt, is the possibility of waiting in safety."

"I thought that just now you seemed convinced of impossibility of attack from the other side."

"Yes, now; but the time will come. The ambition of these islanders is as restless as a caged beast. When they have prepared for defence, they will get ready to attack. Our power to wait depends upon Raymond; and his life may be cut short at any moment. He has a mortal disease at his heart. If he dies, we must fight for life, not for victory. If he lives a few months longer, it will be well.”

The tone in which this was said, told Hu

bert that Mazuffer regarded a man as an instrument, as a means to an end; that attained, he would think no more of his death than of the fall of a decayed autumn leaf, which has fulfilled its purpose, and has nothing left but to fall and to be swept away. He said, "But if Raymond dies, there are other Frenchmen to assume the command."

"Yes, other Frenchmen, but not one more Raymond. At his death, his force will fall to pieces, and the power of the Nizam will pass into the hands of the English, who are ever ready to take advantage of troubles in neighboring states. With Raymond, we hold the Nizam, and attack is impossible. Without him, the Nizam is lost to us, and we are open to the enemy.'

There was no sign of contempt in Mazuffer's face, as he answered, "The antiquated old fop! He give aid! he has given me leave to raise volunteers from the people, and the people are worthy of their Governor. I have got together about fifty-stout fellows enoughEuropeans and half breeds; but such a crew, as dangerous almost to their friends as to their enemies! They have got notions of republican equality; there is no equality-cannot be.

There must be a head as well as a belly and members. They must be ruled."

Mazuffer's nervous hand clenched as he said this; but his face was immoveable as ever. It was clear that he was no worshipper of the destinies which the French Revolution had presented to the world. Few men who feel the instinct of command, and the desire for it strong in them, are.

"What will you do with them?" Hubert asked.

"Take them, of course," Mazuffer answered, with an almost impracticable shrug of his shoulders; "where better are not to be had, worse must do. They must be licked into

some shape. They must have a strong will, and large physical power, pressing upon them; a prompt vigorous hand, ready to strike hard, must be held over them. You will command them."

This proposal was made in a tone of voice, and with a manner as indifferent, as though it had been the most commonplace remark; but there was nevertheless something about the look which showed that Mazuffer had settled the whole matter, and had formed his estimate of Hubert. The latter thought for a moment. He remembered the desperadoes upon the island whom he had kept in subjection. It was well nigh impossible for Mazuffer's troop to be worse than them. Confident in his physical energy, he would undertake the office. He told Mazuffer that he would; but at the same time, he expressed his surprise that so great an enterprise should be undertaken with such inadequate means.

There is a characteristic common to all adventurous men, however much they may differ in other points of character. Be they men of thought or men of action only, on one point they coincide. They are more or less fatalists; they, perhaps, do not even to themselves avow the belief, but they trust in destiny; they rely on events which they cannot foresee, to overcome circumstances they cannot control. "The chapter of accidents" occupies a large space in their book of life. This was the case both with the excitable Antoine and the grave Mazuffer. The energetic Hubert felt the same influence; therefore it was that he was not surprised when he heard Mazuffer reply, "We must trust to time for what is to come. With time we shall either fall or rise; what matters it to the hereafter whether we found an empire or find a grave?"

When will man learn that time-mere time -is not an element of change either for good or evil; that it is simply the space in which change acts the medium in which influences operate. "The dropping of water wears away the solid stone." The cavity is not the effect of time, but of the drops which fell in time. So it is our actions, not a blind abstraction, which moulds our fates.

After an arrangement that Hubert should enter upon his new duties the next morning, the protracted conference terminated. It struck upon Hubert's mind, as an indication of Mazuffer's character, that he did not again, even by allusion, mention Lelia. It seemed as though he had forgotten her. Another circumstance, too, was a suggestive one.

As

Mazuffer was leaving the room, when he had reached the door, he turned back, and with a cautioning air said, "If the Governor speaks to you" then he stopped, keeping his eyes fixed upon Hubert, and, after a moment's pause, added in an undertone as though thinking aloud, "but it is not necessary,' and went out of the apartment.

Hubert understood that M. Malartie was not to be in their secrets. Mazuffer had judged his character rightly. He was not a talker and likely to babble; but he could not so well understand, though for a long time he sat in deep thought, the nature of the man with whom he had just been brought into contact. His physical and his mental natures appeared to Hubert to be at variance, as well as his mind and his habits of action. His slight form, his light step, his low soft voice, his nervous hands, were in contrast with his deep mind, his decisive mode of thought, his stern calm brow and searching eyes. So, also, was his European abruptness with the grave oriental courtesy which habit had impressed upon him.

He was an enigma to be studied—a problem to be solved. Hubert thought he was something like Lewis, only without his strong physical nature, but with added mental power. That thought was as a light to guide to further investigation.

In these reflections he was absorbed, when the door opened without his perceiving it, and M. Malartie entered the room. He stood with a cunning expression on his small wizened face looking at Hubert. He had to speak before the latter was roused from reverie. Judging quickly, as men of small minds often do, but wrongly, he mistook thought for disappointment, and the mistake evidently gave him pleasure. The smaller measure cannot take the dimensions of the larger one. He was seldom grave unless he was troubled, and he could not conceive that others were different from himself. He said, "So you have failed with the envoy-I thought you would."

Hubert looked up, and the contrast between the man who had gone and the man who stood there, was so great and whimsical, that a smile beamed over his face and almost expanded into a laugh. It was as if, looking down from a mountain, he had stumbled over a mole-hill. The smile killed the hopes of the Governor, before Hubert replied, "No, I have not failed."

"You have succeeded, then," said M. Malartie, taking hold of the very obvious alter

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'No, indeed he is not," M. Malartie remarked; and Hubert fancied he saw in the little man just a trace of offended dignity, covered over and suppressed by natural egotism and vanity. "He has been here three weeks. He has lodged in my house. He never appears at my table, nor honors my entertainments with his presence. He never -that is seldom-consults me, since I gave my consent to his raising a corps of volunteers. He is a strange man-I cannot understand him." The Governor ran through this speech with an air of perplexity, which fully confirmed his concluding words. It was abundantly clear, not only that he did not comprehend Mazuffer Ali, but that he would not, if he endeavoured to do so till doomsday. Hubert only replied—“ Mazuffer Ali is not easily understood."

"You do not know, then, when you are to set sail?" said M. Malartie interrogatively, and assuming a profound diplomatic air. Taking Hubert's negative motion of the hand for an answer, he went on. "If he would wait till after the visit of the English fleet, he and his troop, and yourself, would prove valuable auxiliaries in repelling any attack."

Hubert thought that Mazuffer would be about as likely to give up or delay his own designs to assist M. Malartie, as a general would be to erect a battery to defend a molehill. He answered-"I do not know anything of his plans. Had you not better speak to the envoy himself upon the subject ?"

The twinge that affected M. Malartie's face, showed how little he relished the proposal implied in this question; but without answering it, he diplomatically went off upon another tack. "And do you embark in the undertaking without settling your position, or defining your terms?"

No, that will be done."

"And if the terms do not meet your expectations?"

"Then there is no need to accept them." It seemed as if for M. Malartie there was a gleam of hope here-and he turned to the table. "Why, where are the documents— the plans ?"