less than what his appearance would have led her
to believe--his sufferings, his cruel sufferings had
changed him.

"The life of a coachman is not hard," said Charles.

"No, sir, far from it--but I have not been a
coachman all my life."

Nothing could be plainer than this--it was a direct
assertion of his degradation by the business in
which he was then engaged.

"In what manner did you lose your eye, Tony," said
Charles, in a tone of sympathy that Julia blessed
him for in her heart, although she knew that the
member was uninjured, and only hidden to favour
his disguise. Antonio hesitated a little in his
answer, and stammered while giving it--"It was in
the wars," at length he got out, and Julia admired
the noble magnanimity which would not allow him,
even in imagination, to suffer in a less glorious
manner--notwithstanding his eye is safe and as
beautiful as the other, he has suffered in the wars,
thought our heroine, and it is pardonable for him to
use the deception, situated as he is--it is nothing
more than an equivoque. But this was touching
Charles on a favourite chord. Little of a hero as
Julia fancied him to be, he delighted in conversing
about the war with those men, who, having acted in