CHAPTER II.
THE FIGHTING FIFTY-SIXTH.
When I was nineteen years old my father sold the Chateau d'Enville and purchased my commission in the "Fifty-sixth" with the proceeds.

"I say, Denville," said young McSpadden, a boy-faced ensign, who had just joined, "you'll represent the estate in the Army, if you won't in the House." Poor fellow, he paid for his meaningless joke with his life, for I shot him through the heart the next morning.

"You're a good fellow, Denville," said the poor boy faintly, as I knelt beside him: "good by!" For the first time since my grandfather's death I wept.

I could not help thinking that I would have been a better man if Blanche--but why proceed?
Was she not now in Florence--the belle of the English Embassy?
But Napoleon had returned from Elba.

Europe was in a blaze of excitement.