LOUIS DUVAL.

 the bank of the Loire, near to the ruined village of St.
 Clair. The boatman, if man he might be called, for he
 was but a tall youth, hastily fastened his boat to the
 bank, and landed. Looking around him very keenly,
 and seeing no one near, he swiftly ran over the desolate
 ground between himself and the deserted Chateau,
 leaving the village-or what was once the village-at
 his right hand. He well knew the nearest way, and
 in a short time, he stood in the midst of the scorched
 and broken walls of what had once been his happy
 home; for the intruder was Louis Duval.
 Greatly was he altered from what he had been
 when last he trod on that same spot. Four years had
 advanced him from boyhood to youth, had put strength
 into his limbs, and knowledge into his mind; and the
 many strange and fearful scenes he had witnessed and
 passed through had made him reckless of danger.
 His father had risen, from step to step, to be a leader
 among the republicans, and Louis had for four years
 been his constant companion. And Louis Duval stood
 now, armed as a soldier, on the floors of the Chateau
 which had been his shelter in adversity. Had he now
 sought it as a shelter it would have been a very poor
 one, for it was roofless and bare, and the autumn
 night-air moaned as it played in and out of the shattered
 windows and open doorways.
 But it was something different from shelter that
Louis then sought. He passed from room to room
through the lower floor of the Chateau; then, at the
risk of breaking his neck, he climbed the broken stairs
to the upper apartments, and continued his search.
At length, convinced that he was labouring in vain,
he descended and withdrew.
 He next entered what had once been the garden of
the Chateau, but was now a wilderness. Its choice