That altered, frightened, fat face, told his secret well enough. He too wanted to fly, and was on the look- out for the means of escape. “he shall buy my horses,” thought Rebecca, “and I’ll ride the mare.”

Jos walked up to his friend, and put the question for the hundredth time during the past hour, “Did she know where horses were to be had?”

“What, you fly?” said Rebecca, with a laugh. “I thought you were the champion of all the ladies, Mr. Sedley.”

“I—I’m not a military man,” gasped he.

“And Amelia?—Who is to protect that poor little sister of yours?” asked Rebecca. “You surely would not desert her?”

“What good can I do her, suppose—suppose the enemy arrive?” Jos answered. “They’ll spare the women; but my man tells me that they have taken an oath to give no quarter to the men—the dastardly cowards.”

“Horrid!” cried Rebecca, enjoying his perplexity.

“Besides, I don’t want to desert her,” cried the brother. “She shan’t be deserted. There is a seat for her in my carriage, and one for you, dear Mrs. Crawley, if you will come; and if we can get horses—” sighed he—

“I have two to sell,” the lady said. Jos could have flung himself into her arms at the news. “Get the carriage, Isidor,” he cried; “we’ve found them—we have found them.”

My horses never were in harness,” added the lady. “Bullfinch would kick the carriage to pieces, if you put him in the traces.”

“But he is quiet to ride?” asked the civilian.

“As quiet as a lamb, and as fast as a hare,” answered Rebecca.

“Do you think he is up to my weight?” Jos said. He was already on his back, in imagination, without ever so much as a thought for poor Amelia. What person who loved a horse-speculation could resist such a temptation?

In reply, Rebecca asked him to come into her room, whither he followed her quite breathless to conclude the bargain. Jos seldom spent a half-hour in his life which cost him so much money. Rebecca, measuring the value of the goods which she had for sale by Jos’s eagerness to purchase, as well as by the scarcity of the article, put upon her horses a price so prodigious as to make even the civilian draw back. “She would sell both or neither,” she said, resolutely. Rawdon had ordered her not to part with them for a price less than that which she specified. Lord Bareacres below would give her the same money— and with all her love and regard for the Sedley family, her dear Mr. Joseph must conceive that poor people must live—nobody, in a word, could be more affectionate, but more firm about the matter of business.

Jos ended by agreeing, as might be supposed of him. The sum he had to give her was so large that he was obliged to ask for time; so large as to be a little fortune to Rebecca, who rapidly calculated that with this sum, and the sale of the residue of Rawdon’s effects, and her pension as a widow should he fall, she would now be absolutely independent of the world, and might look her weeds steadily in the face.

Once or twice in the day she certainly had herself thought about flying. But her reason gave her better counsel. “Suppose the French do come,” thought Becky, “what can they do to a poor officer’s widow? Bah! the times of sacks and sieges are over. We shall be let to go home quietly, or I may live pleasantly abroad with a snug little income.”