"An' which of 'ee won me?" she | they heard it, and they grew uncomasked calmly. There was silence again for a full minute, and then Thomas Bullasy giggled; and then he trusted to the humor of the situation and answered boldly, "Nuther of us; us'll try agen, though." "I wouldn' try agen," said Ann Tod soberly, "a penny's a penny, an' there's no use wastin' money 'bout the matter.' Then she ceased being sober, and smiled up at them with allurement in her half-closed eyes. "I'll settle it," she declared; "you come 'long with me," and her smile was indeed so alluring, and her mood so convincing, that they rose without protest and followed her down the cliff. When they had reached the water's edge, they began to wonder as to their future ; but there was no manner of hesitation about Ann Tod. "Get in the little boat," she murmured coaxingly; and they did so. ""Tis nigh one o'clock," chuckled Thomas Bullasy aside to Noah Capel, “not much time to spare.” But Noah Capel was smiling in broad contentment as he watched Ann Tod; and she, smiling also guilelessly, made fast the little boat to the stern of the ferry-boat, and, springing into the latter, grasped the oars. 66 Now, I tell 'ee," she said, as she pulled away from shore with her two swains well in tow," whichever of 'ee wants me most by the time us gets 'ome agen, shall have me. An' that's plain enuff, isn' it ? " "Us won't agree 'pon the matter," they protested chivalrously. But Ann Tod laughed softly and shook her curly head. It was Tredennack dinner-hour when they left Tredennack beach, so there were no witnesses of their departure, and they were well out upon the face of the river before the clock in Tredennack church tower sent its clanging note across the water to tell of one o'clock. A half-nervous smile lay on the faces of No Capel and Thomas Bullasy as fortable upon their plank. "That's work-time," ventured Noah Capel, with a giggle. "Law, now, is it?" remarked Ann Tod calmly, as she looked away at the tower meditatively. "Us ought'er be back," ventured Thomas Bullasy. "This is better'n work, don't 'ee consider?" queried Ann Tod, turning her sleepy, smiling eyes full on him. "Better'n work," Thomas affirmed, with half-dazed appreciation. "But us―ought'er be back." They were nearing the other side by this time, and as Ann Tod looked up at the sloping gardens there was more in her eyes than the sleepy smile with which she had looked on Thomas Bullasy; mayhap it was the devilment he bad remembered earlier in the day. And in these gardens sloping to the river, where the water lapped the thick stone walls, and left them green and slimy to the measure of the tide, stood matrons with their babies in their arms, old grandfers smoking after-dinner pipes, youths netting, maids coquetting, children playing in the sun. the boats came alongside Ann Tod's arms slackened stroke, and jerking her head towards the lovers in her wake she called upwards to the groups: And as "What do 'ee think of my sweethearts? They'm come for a bit of a boat-ride for to see which loves me best. There's no time fer the considerin' of such things on dry land." And then she threw back her head and showed her broad white teeth, and laughed and laughed, a most infectious laugh. Then the idlers in the gardens leaned upon their walls, and gazing upon the boats as they drifted slowly by, sent back words of rare appreciation. And Noah Capel and Thomas Bullasy sat and chafed upon the seat, and regretted the inartistic prominence of empty hands and the over-brilliance of blushing cheeks, as they endeavored to swallow back the mortification which rose in their throats, and grinned sheepishly under the blaze of ruthlessly critical eyes. All along by the houses they drifted with the stream; and when at last the treble-voiced children also realized that there was humor in the scene, shrill shouts of derision were added to their elders' broad guffaws. All this Noah Capel and Thomas Bullasy bore awhile with feeble smiles about their lips, but the weight of the parts they were called upon to play grew irksome to them, and they fretted under the burden of the comedy. "Us'll go back now, eff you please," remarked Noah Capel severely. But Ann Tod only smiled upon him. "Eff you'll let me take them oars,' ," suggested Thomas Bullasy, "I'll be gettin' back to work." "Law, now! I wouldn', for worlds," declared Ann Tod. "I do love a good long ride upon the watter.' And the audience opened its mouth without reserve, and shouted at the entertainment. "I'll get 'ome some'ow," "declared Thomas Bullasy, goaded to fury by the prominence thus thrust upon him. "Won't 'ee get out an' walk?" suggested Ann Tod sweetly. "I'd like to have the handlin' of your ears," fumed Noah Capel. "An' to think I put 'ee in anuther boat!" deplored Ann Tod. "Will 'ee take me back?" roared Noah Capel. "Bless yer 'eart, I'm a-doin' of it all the time," cooed Ann Tod, "but 'tis a brave way round." “AW, you little devil!" cried Thomas Bullasy again, variety of expression failing him in his wrath, "I'd like to have my foot on land; I'd let 'ee know." "Iss, my dear; I thought you'd 'ave made up yer mind by time us got 'ome," agreed Ann Tod. And then she grasped her oars again, and rowed "Then I'm blessed eff I don't cut this 'ere 'tarnal rope!" cried Noah Capel, roused into aggression by the sight of the nearing quay, with its knots of idlers. "Where'd you be then, my dear?" out towards the sea; and the lovers queried Ann Tod. And truly Noah could not have answered her with any definiteness, for the ways of the waters are uncertain. The sulky faces of the lovers, towed all helpless and protesting, their fingers idle and their cheeks aflame, were yet more droll than their sheepish smiles had been, and Ann Tod seemed to find them so, for, as they neared the quay, her whole-lunged laugh rang out upon the air, until the idlers ceased their gossip, the chafferers left their bargaining, and a line of puzzled faces looked down upon the boats as they drifted slowly by. "We'm out fer a holiday," called Ann Tod; "my sweethearts are decidin' which wants to 'ave me most." "Aw, you little devil!" burst forth Thomas Bullasy, "will 'ee let me land, or won't 'ee ?" "Won't 'ee,'" gibed Ann Tod. "Ee's a bit shy, is that one at the left," she called up again to her audience on the quay; "'ee don't like bein' looked at. Will 'ee be so good as to turn yer 'eads away while we'm passin' ?” sat inactive in the little boat as it bobbed over the waves, and sickened of the sight of water. It had been scarce one o'clock when Ann Tod left Tredennack beach; it was nearing seven when she pulled towards shore once more, and the sun was growing ruddy, and the waters touched with fire. On their voyage they had passed by many habitations, and great was the wealth of badinage which had floated out to greet them. Now, as they drew near land at last, it was borne in upon the fuming youths that here also lounged another audience; and the wrath within their hearts grew fiercer. Then from the shore there came a fire of fierce upbraidings, and Ann Tod recognized the voice of Peter her father. At first the words were indistinguishable; but Peter Tod, being wont to "make prayer" at chapel, could hurl a word as far as most men. "Gurl! gurl!" he thundered, as he shook his fist at Ann Tod's straining shoulders, "must a second Titus come upon this earth to teach young wimmen to be sober and home-keeping? Such- | day." And blowing a resounding kiss like transgressions should be set to from her trembling fingers, she turned rights by the rod, an' such brazen- from the water's edge and abandoned faced iniquity with stripes. There's herself to the reasonable wrath of her that lumberin' great hoss-ferry bin sire. across that there bit of watter fourteen times fer fifteen blessed humans, mostly infants, in less than half-aduzzen hours." But Aun Tod only laughed again quite softly. "All this blessed afternoon have I been a-wastin' space with that great floatin' cattle-shed, till my back's nigh broken; while you, child of unreasonableness 66 Law, father, I'm a bit weary in well-doin' myself," confessed Ann Tod as her boat grounded on the beach, "fer I've a-biu pullin' round this old ark of yours for nigh 'pon six hours on a erran' of mercy." Then she tittered in the very teeth of her father's wrath, while Noah Capel and Thomas Bullasy sat glaring in the little boat as it gently rose and fell upon the water. Then the novelty of the scene diverted the onlookers, and they "Haw-hawed" in sympathy. "What've 'ee bin up to, Ann Tod?" queried a stout fishwife, as she held her sides and grinned. "We've bin decidin' of matters," quoth Ann Tod. You've took "Decidin', 'ave 'ee ? yer time 'bout it, I mus' say. An' what've 'ee bin a-decidin' of ?" "They two young chaps was powerful disturbed in their minds 'bout which was most set on courtin' me; so us went out on the watter to think it over quiet-like. 'Ave 'ee made up yer minds, do 'ee think?" she called to the lovers as they bobbed upon the stream. "Dumn you, you young vixen!" answered Thomas Bullasy, goaded into strong language. "I pity the chap what goes a-courtin' you," volunteered Noah Capel, stung to incivility. "You can tell 'en that yerself, Mister Capel," laughed Ann Tod, "fer 'ee's a-comin' all the way from Plymouth town to take me out come Sun "Mister Luckey was'n aware as you was a needin' of a sea voyage fer yer 'ealth," called a grinning youth from the shore to the frowning youths in the boat; "'ee was wisht to think as you was forced to leave a-caulkin' of 'is vessel; an' 'ee said as 'ow 'ee was afeered you was too fraygile fer such as 'ee.” But when the chuckling crowd had chuckled sufficiently, they pulled the chafing cavaliers to land, and offered sympathy which mortified. Noah Capel and Thomas Bullasy, however, were in no mood to appreciate the excellent virtue of consolation they preferred to go home to tea. AT the present time, when anything that may be said or written throwing any side-lights upon the career or persoual characteristics of the Emperor Napoleon I. is received with more or less acceptance by the general public, a few extracts taken verbatim et literatim from letters of the period, written by an officer in his Britannic Majesty's service, a near relative of the writer, may not be devoid of interest. Captain (afterwards Major) Poppleton, of his Majesty's 53rd Foot, the regiment detailed for service at the time of the emperor's arrival on the Island of St. Helena, is the officer I alluded to, and by virtue of his position | great rate, when out of my sight I lost as daily attendant upon the emperor, him altogether, but, being perfectly and the officer directly responsible to satisfied as to his ultimate safety, I did the governor for his safe keeping, he not trouble myself about him, but left was peculiarly fitted to form an esti-him to return to Longwood when he mate of his character and surround-pleased. This he did in due course. ings. In a letter dated December 25, afterwards related what had happened 1815, he writes: "I expected to have to Admiral Sir Geo. Cockburn, and he been placed upon half-pay, but, to our desired me, if we rode out again, not to great astonishment, we were sent to ac- lose sight of the emperor, but to ride company Bonaparte, and after a three near him. In the course of a day or months' voyage arrived at this place two he [Bonaparte] sent to me to say [St. Helena]. To describe it is almost he wished to ride. I sent word to him impossible no landing-place but one, that I should attend him with pleasure, the rest of the island inaccessible - but that for the future I should ride provisions and every article of furni- near him if I chose, not as his servant; ture three times the price they are in that I should behave towards him with England. Bonaparte is discontented, every delicacy possible; that I would General Bertrand and Madame more not interrupt or listen to his conversaSo. We are at present full of all sorts tion; and if a wish were expressed by of projects. Land is in plenty and un-him to be left alone it should be comoccupied; we may have as much as we plied with. The horses were imwant. I am just going to begin to cul- mediately unsaddled, his breakfast tivate a garden, rear fowls, ducks, and equipage was unloaded, and he gave pigs, with a stock of two sheep to begin out he was unwell. We have never with a boat on the ocean to catch ridden together since. A most terrible fish; and my military duties will, I business was made of it all, but not a think, occupy my time tolerably well. word of truth in the whole of it.. The French officers who were with him were determined at that time to misrepresent everything and to make him dislike the English. In this they comIt is an occupation I should pletely succeeded for a length of time, not seek. This morning an Indiaman but Napoleon has for some time past arrived, and sails to-morrow. Bona- been of a contrary opinion, and exparte is literally a prisoner; he is pressed himself highly pleased with guarded in all directions, and the two myself personally. I have no doubt officers that are with him (i.e., Counts but that all I desired to be told him was Bertrand and Montholon) all highly misconstrued." discontented, but kept in great order by our admiral, Sir George Cockburn." By way of preface to Major Popple- "I am the only responsible person ton's second letter, dated March 15, for Napoleon. The governor has not 1817, it may be stated that some little seen him for many months." (Note: sensation had recently been occasioned This statement, arising from Napoin the island by the reputed "losing" | leon's deeply rooted antipathy to Sir of Napoleon by that officer when accompanying him on one of his daily rides. "In the course of a week I expect to be a companion of Bonaparte's. Two of us are appointed to act as a distant spy over his actions, myself one. Alluding to this circumstance, Major P. writes: Writing somewhat later, the major continues : Hudson Lowe, is fully borne out in Dr. O'Meara's "A Voice from St. Helena.") "All the China ships are here, and all longing to see my charge, but he will not see any of them. He is "With regard to my rencontre with under very severe restrictions, and will his Majesty, it is erroneously stated. not quit his residence. If he chooses We never exchanged a syllable. In to go with me he can go when he consequence of his riding at a very pleases; but the emperor of the French 7 cannot stoop to ride with a British From Public Opinion. THE "ISLES OF SAFETY." "He is not at all angry with me - on THIS isolated spot, where Captain the contrary, he sent for me some time Dreyfus has to serve his sentence, since, and told me to tell the officers of comprises three small islands off the the 53rd Regiment that he was obliged coast of French Guiana, a few degrees to them for their delicacy towards him north of the equator, and except a that they were brave men, good sol-narrow sea frontage, are covered with diers, and that he esteemed them tropical forests. The climate is simply much. There's a character for you!" murderous, certain death being the It may perhaps be not altogether out result of standing bareheaded in the of place to give in conclusion a few sun even for an instant. From Noparticulars of the island itself and its vember to June is the wet season, attractions (?) as a residence, as re- during which the average rainfall is corded by the major at this time. He one hundred and eighty inches; yet writes: 66 I almost forget the descrip- the temperature is never less than eighty-five degrees, and rises to one hundred and fifteen degrees during the four dry mouths. Convict ships bound for these "Islands of the Curst" generally sail either from the Ile de Ré, in the Bay of Biscay, or the Ile d'Aix in the Mediterranean. A month is occupied by the voyage, the horrors of which are a fit prelude to those yet to come. Dressed in their convict garb, the prisoners are confined in batches of fifty in great iron cages on the spar deck. Benches are placed round the sides of the cage, and hammocks are slung at night. By day and night they are watched by guards standing beside loaded mitrailleuses, ready to fire at the first sign of mutiny. Sometimes, indeed, such outbreaks do occur, but they are invariably quelled with remorseless severity. The horrors of the passage are too repulsive for description, the scenes resembling rather those observable a century or two back than what one would associate with the present times. On the arrival of the prisoners at the Iles de Salut they are taken to the "Camp," a clearing occupied by strongly built, iron-barred huts, furnished with double rows of hammocks. But at night the fœtid atmosphere within, combined with the noisome vapors of the outer air and the ever-present swarms of stinging insects, render any but the sleep of exhaustion impossible. From the mo tion I gave you of the island. Nothing Shortly after the period embraced by it. ment of his arrival the convict has no name. He is known only by the number of his hammock. The new arrivals |