Further on, there was a small chandler's shop, where Jack observed an old woman seated at the counter, attended by a little girl. " "Never mind," returned the stranger, dismounting; "you'll recollect me by and by, I've no doubt. Perhaps that is why I lost my ambition. It did not matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. ‘I suppose I need not ask to which other soldier you refer. But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. "She is here," cried Jack, darting forward. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. But at the beginning of the affray, when he thought every one was too much occupied with his own concerns to remark his absence, he slipped out of the room, not for the purpose of avoiding the engagement (for cowardice was not one of his failings), but because he had another object in view.
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