(GLY

carricd before 1t the broken partics of the Vendéans like the dédris upon the bosom of a flooded strecam. On towards the village swept the mingled mass; and Margot, stunned and almost stifled, was hurried along with it All the cottages of the place were speedily sct on fire by the ruthless victors, that of our heroine being one of the first to persh. Never agam did Margot sce her poor old grandmother, or learn for certuin of her fate ! The church itself, i which numbers of the

pursucd had taken refuge, was soon n Names. When at last the tide of battle had chbed away from

the wrecked village, Margot, having mar- vellously escaped all personal mjury, but

nearly dead with ericl and horror,

was free to weep 1n sohitude over the smoking heap which was all that remain- cd of her home. With a burst of agony she buricd her face o her hands, and sank almost unconsclous upon the ground.

V11, SHI was aroused by a voice that scemed famihar 5 t was calling ““ NMar-

cot !” She Dhifted her head. It was Ia Crosse, who, fearmg lest harm might befall his . - ON AWHICH sTDIE benefactress, had

come 1 scarch of

her, With suddenly rencewed vizour she

sprang to her feet, and was hastening to mect him when she saw him fall

He had been shot by a party of three or four Venddans, who had caught sight of the detested Republican unmform which he had now re-assumed. Margot rushed to his side: the Venddéans did the same. They were strangers to Margot—men [rom another village. Two of them, with a rough curse, forced her with them mto the wood, whilst another “rifled the hody, “Dead ! the girl heard them say,

MWARGOT.

507 VIII. WieN cevening fell, Margot took advan-

tage of the dusk to escape from her captors. With heavy vet cager heart she at once sought the spot where la Crosse had fallen. No trace of his body was to be seen. The heart-broken girl wandered aimlessly on, until, m the neighbourhood of the chiteau, she was stopped by a Republican soldier of rufhanly appearance. “On which side are vou? " demanded he, inoa fierce tone. U Rovalist,” murmured Margot, too utterly spent to think of the peril she incurred by such an answer. She was instantly ! made a prisoner, and passed the night, with many other unfortunates, im an outhouse belonging to the chatecau. At day- break, after a scanty meal, the party of captives was sent off on the road to Nantes. IX.

Wi will not dwell upon the sadness of Margot's farewell look upon the ruins of her beloved village, or on the miscries of the jour- ney to Nantes, where hooting and reviling greeted the arrival of the hapless Venddéans. Our poor Margot, nearly dropping with fati- gue, covered with dust, and at no time of a preposscssing appearance, was singled out as the principal butt of ribaldry and sarcasm.

Scveral of the prisoners died during the first night in the dungeon of Nantes.

ARE you?”?

In the morning a strange scenc was cnacted. Lor the women of the newly- arrived band one chance of life and

doubtful liberty remained. tach Repub- Ilcan soldier was permitted to choose from among the condemned one woman, to be acknowledged as his wife. All were chosen but one. Need we say that this onc was Margot?