Seventh, Jean, his brother, the chronicler of St.
Denis, and Guillaume, bishop of Paris, one of
the three commissioners appointed by the Pope
to revise the trial and condemnation of Joan of
Arc. Anybody else? Admiral Coigny. What
did Admiral Coigny do? We don't know. He
is a name in the guide-book, and he fills a page in
history that we have either forgotten or never
read.

As at Caen, so at Bayeux, there are many
resident families of the aristocracy—quite a
society, indeed, but, for the nonce, a society as
invisible as if it were in the moon. All the
world has gone to the sea, to Luc, to Lion, to
Étretat, to Trouville. The world has shown its
sense, we also will go to the sea; let us journey
to-morrow by the Délivrande to Luc. So be
it—and now to creep back to the railway for
Caen.

SIR JOHN'S TROUBLES
IN FOUR CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I

If ever there was a man who ought to have
been happy, but if ever there was one who was
thoroughly miserable, it was Sir John Milson,
K.C.B., retired Major-General of Indian service,
resident at 104, St. Andrew-terrace, and
member of the Senior United Service and the Oriental
Clubs. He had, by thirty-five years' hard
professional work in the East, attained not only
a comfortable position for the remainder of his
days, but had brought with him from India an
honourable reputation as a soldier. Sir John
had not been born to wealth, and in gaining his
present rank and name he had not, like many of
his contemporaries, lost either his liver, his
temper, or the faculty of enjoying England and
English life. Sir John was a type of a class and
a profession whose virtues are but too little
recognised amongst us. He was the son of a
country clergyman, who obtained a cadetship
for him in the East India Company's service
when he was little more than sixteen years of
age. This happened in the good old days when
our Eastern Empire was governed by a Court of
Directors in Leadenhall-street, and when the
voyage to India was performed in the large
frigate-like ships that constituted the trading
fleet of the honourable corporation which ruled
over a kingdom as big as Europe.

When John Milson reached Calcutta he was
attached to a native infantry regiment at Barrackpore,
was promoted in due time to be ensign in
a native corps "up the country," and after having
passed through three years of pale ale drinking,
snipe shooting, and hog hunting, turned to in
earnest to study the languages, and having
passed the requisite examination, was appointed
interpreter and quartermaster of his regiment.
In India, officers take a pride in being soldiers.
The Indian army, in this respect, more
resembled, before the days of amalgamation,
the French than the British service. No
man is more respected in Bengal, Bombay,
or Madras, than the officer who knows his
duty thoroughly, and takes credit to himself
for the way that duty is done. John Milson
was one of this kind. He was proud of his
regiment, proud of being able to drill the
battalion—the quartermaster in the Indian army
is an officer on the regular roster of the corps,
and, being mounted on parade, acts as a second
major at drill—proud of his knowledge of the
languages, proud of the confidence his men had
in him. Before he was five-and-twenty he had
been through a campaign, and mentioned in
general orders; a year later he was appointed
second in command of an irregular corps,
which, at thirty, he commanded, although
only a captain in his own regiment and a brevet
major in the army. About this time, being on
leave at the Presidency, he was captured by
the bright eyes and good figure of Annie
Stevens, a young lady who had just landed at
Calcutta to join her father, who was a Colonel and
a Deputy-Commissary-General. Miss Stevens,
although she had been hardly a month in India,
had already refused two highly eligible offers.
Old Mr. Currise, the Sudder Judge, had paid her
great attention, and she—knowing him to be
some years older than her father, and being
great friends with his three grown-up daughters,
who were all older than herself—accepted his
presents, and took drives in his carriage,
just as she might have done those of an uncle or
a grandfather. But when this yellow old
widower suddenly went down on his knees
one fine morning and asked Annie to become
the second Mrs. Currise, she first thought him in
joke, then laughed at him, and ended by
declining the honour intended her. "Society"
in Calcutta thought that Currise had been very
badly treated, and took care to let Annie see
that they had a very poor opinion of any young
lady who would refuse so eligible a person as a
Sudder Judge drawing four thousand rupees a
month, with a chance of a Seat in Council on the
first vacancy. "Why did you not accept him?"
remonstrated old Mrs. General Fancsome, who,
when Currise had been rejected, had volunteered
to act as his mediator with Annie. " Mr. Currise
has a brother on the Direction, the Adjutant-
General is his first cousin, and he is distantly
related to the President of the Board of Control.
Only think what you might do for your family
if you accepted him. But Annie pleaded, "He
is so very old."

"Not a bit, my dear. He only came out to
India in '14, and allowing him to have been
twenty years of age, that would only make him
a little more than sixty."

"But," said Annie, "I am not eighteen yet;"
and was deaf to the voice of the charmer. In
vain did her father, the Deputy-Commissary-
General, and her mother urge her. She was
determined not to lead "society" in Calcutta
at such a sacrifice; and so she declined the offer
of the Sudder Judge's hand a second time—
for an offer it really was which old Mrs. Fancsome
had urged upon her.

In like manner had she received and declined
the offer of hand and heart made her by a great
military magnate, no less a person than Colonel
Fathix, the Commissary-General himself, a