The other gentlemen had come to no conclusion, and thus I found out nothing, after all. This was about the sum total of the talking we did at our first meeting, although it gives no idea of the time we were at it, and I was soon led away by the tall man, whose name, like the others, had the "de" of nobility, and was called de la Remy. I had caught the idea already that he was the landlord of the inn, and such was the fact. Indeed, a great many of the émigrés in England at this time were engaged in far less remunerative employments, and some had all they could do to put food into their mouths. Well, when I had taken a bath I was much refreshed; indeed, I could scarcely imagine that I was the same youth who had been halting along the road-side, ignorant of his whereabouts and careless as to his destination a few hours before.
As may be perceived (at least I should think the fact was evident enough), I had ceased to think of myself as a boy. It was only at times that my age would assert itself in a manner that led me to indulge in prankishness and skylarking. Thus when the hair-dresser came to my room, shown up by one of the inn servants, I pretended not to understand English, and, in consequence, they spoke openly before me. So I found out not a little. In the first place, I learned that Monsieur de Brissac and the Marquis de Senez (a Spanish title, I judge), were supposed to be very wealthy, and that I had been taken by the inn people for the private servant of the former, who had lost his way when ill some time previously, and had but now found his master. But of the more important thing, that I learned more by guesswork than from what was told me, I shall devote some space, but not now.
That night as I lay in a comfortable bed, after bidding my friends a good-night, I reasoned over the situation. I had been engaged as private secretary to the Marquis de Neuville (M. de Brissac), and would start for London with him on the morrow. There was but one regret, and that was the deception in regard to my name.
[to be continued.]
[THE FIGHTING SAVAGE.]
BY CYRUS C. ADAMS.
Within two years we have seen great nations waging four wars with peoples who are above the savage state, though not fully civilized according to our ideas. Two of these wars are now ended, and the results in both have been surprising.
It was thought that the Hova people of Madagascar would at least make an effort, when a French army invaded their great island in 1895, to repel the foreigners. They made a great show of resistance when the French landed their troops. They had cannon, powder, and thousands of rifles, collected an army of 30,000 men at their inland capital, and the Queen said she would lead them to battle if they needed her in the field. A nation of orators, they indulged in much brave and eloquent talk; but when it came to the pinch, they did not fight. The French marched into Antananarivo without any opposition worth mentioning, and are now the masters of Madagascar.
The brave mountaineers of Abyssinia have a different story to tell. For the first time a native African state has beaten a European power in a hard-fought war, driven the enemy out of her territory, and imposed her own terms of peace, including reimbursement for the board of about 2500 prisoners, at so much per week, during last summer. King Menelek has not lost a foot of territory; and Italy, which sent her army among those highlands to prove that the King was her vassal and his country her protectorate, has acknowledged the complete independence of Abyssinia. How did Menelek and his army win so signal a triumph?