been idle. I am not naturally good, as I know from this, that when taken aback in a sudden strait or emergency my first impulse is not to think of what I ought to do, but rather of what I may do to get safely out of it myself; but I do think that I have a strong true wish to be good, for if I am given some little time for reflection I generally make up my mind to do what is right, and if my thoughts do not get muddled again I don't think I am bad at sticking to it.

As I sat there I gradually made up my mind-rightly or wrongly I cannot even now tell-that it was my duty to risk what I had to risk to save our men. I swallowed the tea the servant had brought me, and then I got up, and, crossing the hall, I went into the drawing-room that had been given up to the officers. The room was full of smoke, and they were playing cards when I entered; but as I crossed the room to where they sat they all rose and put down their cigars.

"Colonel," I said, "I find you have locked up all my men."

"Only for the night, madam," he said, "and I am very sorry."

"It makes no difference to me whether you are sorry or not," I said, haughtily. "I am not here to seek for sympathy. I come to ask how far you mean to go."

He said that he did not quite understand my question.

"Am I and my maids prisoners too?" I asked.

"No, madam, certainly not; we are not waging war on ladies," he said, and smiled in the way that always vexed me so.

"But on invalids," I said, scornfully, child as I was. He looked inquiringly at me. "I am thinking of my old servant with the wooden leg," I went

on.

"Oh, if he can be of any use to you, madam, he shall be let out immedi

tely. Only you must promise that he shall not leave the place to-night."

"I can promise you that," I said; and then I went on as if I were a queen speaking to one of her subjects: "Then will you see that orders are given to that end?"

Again I was vexed to see the amused expression on all their faces, being too great a fool to think of what a terrible come-down I should have had if they had taken me seriously. One of the young officers was dispatched with the Colonel's orders, and I stalked out of the room, the Colonel himself holding the door open for me.

One of my how to get out of the Taking her

A little later Sören came to the kitchen door, where cook and I stood waiting for him, each with a lantern, and while we went on what was believed to be a round of inspection to all the different sheds and houses I told him what I had decided to do. He did not approve of it, and I had to use all my authority to make him consent to help me in carrying out my plan. But I must say this of him, that when once he had given in he helped me with a real good will. greatest difficulties was Malle, my riding-horse, stable and on to the road. out the ordinary way was out of the question, as the door was sure to be watched, and we would have to cross part of the yard. The only possible way would be through the coachman's kitchen, which opened both into the stable and into the kitchen-garden; but then there were steps leading up to the kitchen from both sides, and Malle knew no more of this way out of the stable than she knew of the way into our drawing-room. However, as it was the only way we had to try it. So we made all our preparations; lifting the inner door from its hinges, and pushing the other one as far back as possible, we moved everything in the kitchen out of Malle's way, and at

last we pulled two pairs of Sören's very thickest stockings over her hoofs. And all the while we moved about apparently quite unconcerned, talking in our natural voices, so as to make them think that we were only setting things right for the night.

When we had done cook and I went back to the house and made believe that we were fastening all the windows in the kitchen, while we were opening the one looking into the garden. Cook wept bitterly when I said Good-night to her, and it made me scold her, for I was somewhat nervous and frightened myself.

It took me some time to get properly dressed in one of my husband's suits, but at last I was ready, and before I put out the light I had a peep at myself in the mirror. Terrified as I certainly was at that time, I still felt a pang of disappointment at my own aspect. There certainly was nothing very chivalrous or imposing in my appearance as I stood there in clothes "made to grow in," with a pair of worsted stockings over my boots and up above my knees, and a soft felt hat pulled down over my ears.

I then put out my light, and the time that followed while I waited to see the lights disappear from all the windows in the house was the only time I seriously contemplated giving up my foolhardy enterprise. All my patriotic zeal died right away, and if my many big words to Sören had not stood on my side cowardice would have got the better of me. Ever since then I have had some trust in big words for keeping a middling-good man up to his mark.

It was close upon midnight before all was dark and quiet. Shaking so that I could hardly stand on my legs, I crept out of my bedroom, along the passage, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. I got out through the window that opens just above the ground. 908

LIVING AGE.

VOL. XVII.

*

There was still some bit of a moon, SO that it was not quite dark as I walked through the shrubbery, out into the lane, into which the kitchengarden opens, and where I was to meet Sören with Malle. They were there, and so excited was I that not for one moment did I wonder at it. Many and many a time since then have Sören and I discussed this night, and neither of us can tell how we managed as we did. Sören once told me that he did say his prayers, and just when he said "Amen," Malle got down the last step, but he would never allow that to account for it; he said that he had been taught by the clergyman who confirmed him that it was heresy to believe in miracles happening nowadays. I don't think so; I think most men are mean in this, that they will call out for help when they are in a stress, and then refuse to acknowledge that they got it when they are safely through with their difficulties. They are all-or most of them, at least-like the sailor who, falling from the top of the mast, called upon God to help him, and, being safely landed on the deck, only said, "Oh, all right, I can very well help myself." Sören was like him. He would have it that it was all his own skill that took Malle safely through the kitchen that night. My husband said it was luck! I know that whenever they are put on the test their deeds disown their words, but at those moments I never have the heart to catch them.

Sören wanted to see me safely through the wood on to the road, but I would not let him do it, for I had promised that he should not leave the place, and I considered the garden fence its border. So he helped me on to Malle's back, and we started with heavy hearts but without many words. The time when I used to ride the unsaddled horses home from the meadows being not so very far back, I could

still feel at home sitting on a horse like a boy, and, being born and bred in the country, I could stick to a narrow road running through a dark wood by keeping my eyes on the top of the trees as they stand out against the sky-which is the only way to do it. Malle, too, did her part without any mistake, though I am sure she felt uncomfortable in her stockings, and so we managed between us to get noiselessly and unnoticed on to the high road.

By the time we had reached it the moon had disapeared, and it was raining. My hands and my feet were like so many lumps of ice, and I remember being suddenly aware that I was moaning in time to Malle's movements: "Oh-I-can-not-do-it, Oh-I-cannot-do-it," and stopping myself with a very stern "Nonsense."

I have never been able to find out the exact place where we had our fall, but I should say that we had been on

our

way for almost an hour when Malle went down heels over head, her feet having got entangled, I suppose, in the remnants of the worn-out stockings; at all events, we could not have been far from the cross-road where you leave the high road for Kiddelund. I was at first perfectly stunned by the fall, and some time went by before I thought of pulling myself together and moving from the spot where I had fallen. And when at last I got up, the pain in my right ankle was so agonizing that I sat down again on the edge of the road, with my feet in the ditch and my head in my hands, unconscious of everything but the terrible pain. And not till Malle actually poked her soft hot muzzle into my ear did I recollect where I was, and that all my trouble would be lost if I remained there. I got up with the greatest difficulty, and, getting hold of Malle's mane, I crept along two or three steps till we hit upon one of the gravel piles

on the roadside, and, after having rested a little, I managed from that to scramble on to Malle's back. When she took her very first step I realized that she was as lame as I was myself.

And then it was that I gave myself up to despair. I remained where I was, because I did not know what else to do; but I closed my eyes, and all I could think of, while Malle, who had more energy and perseverance than her mistress, manfully strode on, on her poor injured legs, was how to keep my head from tumbling off my shoulders. So dead tired and dejected were we that neither of us was the least startled by a sudden, "Wer da? Halt!" called out to us from the darkness, straight in front of us. Nor did we think of stopping till we were actually stopped by two men on horseback barring the way. They said something to me that I could not take in, and so I made no answer. Then they struck a light in my face, and after that they had another consultation, and I think they laughed. After that they tied my hands in front of me, and, pulling Malle's reins over her head, one of them turned his horse and led us on, I never thought where. For not till we stopped in front of a door from which the light was pouring out upon us did I realize that we had been going in the wrong direction, and that, being left to arrange matters all by herself, that faithful old Malle had carried me back to my own door.

At this discovery I felt absolutely no disappointment, for by this time. it was I who was stunned, and my poor overwrought body that had the upper hand. Lanterns were brought and the officers came out. They spoke to me and they spoke to one another, but what did 1 care? Not even when I understood that the Colonel was ordering me to dismount did I move, for I could not, no, not if they had pointed all their pistols at me. And when they

lifted me out of the saddle and on to the ground, I simply collapsed and sat down in the dirt in the midst of them. They picked me up and carried me into the house, and I remember only feeling anxious about the covering of the armchair in which they placed me, which proves how much stronger was the woman than the hero in me.

Someone, I suppose it must have been the doctor, pushed back my hair -when we fell my hat had been lost and my hair had tumbled down-and washed my face and my hands in hot water. Then they gave me some brandy to drink, and, standing over me, they gave me some moments to recover before they spoke to me again.

And for all this kindness-if kindness it were-they had only a poor reward; for not only did they restore me to my senses, but they left me time enough to think it all over, and to make up my mind that I would have yet one other try to save our men. So when they began questioning me again I told them how, having found out what their plans were, I had made up my mind to warn our men, and, having no one to send, I had gone myself, hoping that I might get back unnoticed, which was all perfectly true. And now I come to what to me has always proved that God was on my side in this affair, for just when they were beginning to put awkward questions to me about our men, whom I had spoken to? where I had met with them? my head began to swim again and I fainted right away. And I think that God wished to save me from lying.

When I recovered my consciousness I was in bed in my own room, and the German doctor was standing over me nursing my poor bruised ankle. He did not speak till he had done, but then he sat down beside my bed, and, looking very kind and friendly-to me he seemed a very old man, though he

was probably on the right side of fifty -he said: "Now, little madam, do you think you could answer just a few questions?" The way he said it made me feel like a poor little tired child, extremely sorry for myself; and, hiding my face in my hands, I began to weep so bitterly, that, fearing I suppose to set me off into hysterics, he refrained from any further interrogation and left me to the care of my own servants.

Nor did he trouble me when he came to see me the following day; and when, on the third day, he came to see me for the last time, just before they were going off for good, it was I who began:

"Doctor," I said, "will you tell me whether you caught our men at Kiddelund?"

"Why," he said, "you don't think we went straight into the trap you set us?"

I said nothing and lay perfectly quiet; but there must have been that in my face which roused his suspicion, for suddenly his eyes seemed to light up with fun and delight, and he said: "You do not mean to say that you had not been there at all?"

"I never said I had, doctor," I said. But having assured me that our men were safely out of reach, he little by little drew the whole truth from me. He enjoyed it thoroughly like a real good joke, and said as we parted that he would vote that I should be hanged as soon as I were well enough to bear it.

From the Colonel I had a civil but very serious written message, warning me against ever repeating my attempt to serve our army in a like manner, as such attempts on the part of the population would certainly lead to very deplorable retaliations on the part of the enemy.

But when, two or three days later, I came into my drawing-room, I found

1

"It is the organization of knowledge rather than its increase that is wanted just now." 1 We should do well to keep in mind this statement which Huxley made in 1865; the enormous growth of scientific literature and the increase of specialization during the last few decades render it more and more difficult to take stock of our facts and consider them in their bearing on general questions. "What avails it us to have bellies full of meat, if it be not digested?"

2

Under the heading, "What about Natural Selection?" a writer in the July number of the Contemporary Review calls attention to the evidence of palæontology in regard to Natural Selection. The author endeavors to summarize recent contributions to our knowledge of past life, justly charging evolutionists with paying too little attention to the records of the rocks; but he implies that their attitude may be explained by the unwelcome nature of the facts which have been interpreted from the fragmentary documents in the earth's crust. We will confine ourselves to the evidence of palæobotany, which, we are told, furnishes "just next to no evidence at all 1 Life and Letters of T. H. Huxley, I., p. 267.

of the work of Natural Selection in evolving new species of plants." Were it not that Mr. Johnston, in speaking of the Geological Record, maintains that "as a rule it is a very fair record to argue from," it would seem superfluous to draw attention to the truth of Darwin's arguments in his famous chapter on the Imperfection of the Geological Record. Each year fills up a few of the gaps in the life-records of bygone days; but the assumption that we are, or ever shall be, in possession of a very fair record, is an astounding statement from one who has devoted "a good many years to a careful survey of the whole available evidence."

It is but rarely that the earth's crust affords any relics of old land-surfaces; the terrestrial vegetation of former days has left only a few waifs and strays carried by water or wind into seas and lakes to be entombed in water-borne sediments, some of which have been upheaved and denuded in the ceaseless building of continents. As the result of a concomitance of conditions, which seems to have occurred but once in the history of the earth, we have an unusual wealth of material preserved in wonderful perfecThe Living Age, Aug. 9.