So, at least, his messmates thought. For he would bob backwards and forwards, screw up first one eye and then the other, advance and withdraw with the pistol in his hand, making, meanwhile, such earnest and hideous grimaces, that some bluejackets who saw him Isaid that he gave them the

"jim-ja m s."

might have been seen shoving off inside the breakwater.

The hero of the hour looked positively green. He nervously clutched his pistol, and when they found themselves nearing the ruins, he looked piteously nervous.

As they hove in sight, a form, followed by two others, emerged from behind the ruins. All three were masked, which added to the terror of the situation.

paper 'art," said one son of Neptune, disdainfully. "I call it the stoopidest thing I ever seed. 'E can't shoot, 'e can't, no more than a flea,"

The gun-room was most cheery in its advice; in fact, they thought it rare sport, which, considering Dolly's loss of appetite and sleepless nights, was most unkind.

The fatal day arrived, and in the cool. of the evening Dolly and his two seconds.

was marked off. Don his opponent, posed

waited.

"My God! I can't do it, you fellows," muttered Dolly. "Look how I'm shaking. It isn't fair."

"Don't be a fool," said the fat boy, prodding him in the back; "be a man. Pull yourself together and see him blowed."

"But why has he got a mask on?"

"Why does

a miller wear a white hat?"

The advancing figures were now within a few paces of Dolly. A space between them Cesare saluted himself, and

Dolly shambled into position, cocked his pistol, and waited too.

Heavens how horrible he felt. A numb, sickly feeling gripped his head. He knew he had come there to die-to die like a dog, just when life was at its fairest, and he at his strongest. Well, it couldn't be helped.

opposing seconds.

Dolly nodded.

"One-two-three-Fire!"

The report of two pistols rose on the air. Following it closely came a shriek of agony, and Dolly fell forward.

At that shriek, Don Cesare tore off his mask, disclosing the somewhat ashen face of Green, the senior sub.

66

'By Gad! you were careful to see that the pistols weren't loaded?" he gasped to his fellow-conspirators. "What's happened to the Juggins? Hi, Seton, old fellow, don't be a bally ass! We were only having a lark. Here, give us the brandy, and dig him in the ribs."

In the utmost consternation they all surrounded the unconscious Dolly, who, under the influence of this vigorous treatment, presently opened his eyes.

"Where am I wounded?" he feebly asked. "Am I losing much blood?"

"Wounded! losing blood! you young bounder," retorted Green with a sigh of relief. "You haven't as much as a scratch on your delicate person. We thought we'd have a bit of a joke with you, but never imagined you'd flop in this idiotic.

gave us a pretty fright, I can tell you.

"Then you wrote that letter, you were Don Cesare, &c., &c," said Dolly, sitting in the middle of the road, and blinking vaguely at the senior sub.

"That's so," said Green of the Flamboyant.

"You skunk! I've a good mind to punch your head off!"

"Better bottle up your energy; you might want it on some future occasion.” "How about Carissima?" ventured the fat boy.

"Carissima be da- --" was the answer. "The mere idea of a girl makes me ill. Come to G and have a tuck in, you fellows. I feel champagne is the only thing to restore my equilibrium."

They went, with the result that a few hours later a very rowdy party of young officers made their way in the direction of the Flamboyant.

They were announcing to the world, that Dolly was "a jolly good fellow," to which opinion that resuscitated gentleman fully agreed.

He has but one annoyance now, that is, instead of calling him Dolly, he has been rebaptised Carissima.

M

ANY will have read in "The

Christian" during the last few months an account of an Anglican Brotherhood, to which John Storm belonged. Knowing that for some years Father Hopkins had established such a Community at the Abbey, about three miles from Alton, in Hampshire, and having had my curiosity still further whetted by a meeting at the Nottingham Church Congress, at which an attempt was made to heckle him pretty severely, I sought and obtained leave to spend a day at the Abbey, thinking that many would be interested to know what are the rules and manner of life of its inmates.

A mile or so from Alton, I turned from the main road to ascend a very steep hill, known as the King's Hill, from the top of which a pretty view of Alton may be

obtained.

The tinkling of the Church. bell, and a signpost on which was printed "The Abbey," told me that I had at last reached my destination. On arriving at the door, where hangs the large bell for visitors, I was at once escorted by a Brother to the guest-room, a comfortable room of varnished deal about seven yards square. Above the grandfather's clock stood a large white cross. Over the window was an oil painting, "presented by the mutineers of the Cairnie Hill." In the corner stood a cigar-stand, but of this more anon. On the north side, near the door opening into the bedroom, was a bookcase containing a number of books. dealing with religious life and work : The Last Abbot of Glastonbury, The Poems of George Herbert, The Life of S. Benedict, together with others of a