scorn. "You have a right to shoot me, monsieur, by the laws of honor. But there is no law in heaven or earth which gives you the right to detain me with speculations as to what will happen afterwards. The sun is up, and I am ready."

an end. . . . Marshal de Ravenel will again acknowledge your claim to satisfy your honor."

"Very well . . . I consent-on that security. Monsieur, my wife, by returning to me of her own free will, has made

"Now I don't think you feel like smiling, and smelling roses, you " said St. Ruth, stung to fury by de Ravenel's contempt.

The foul word had hardly escaped his lips-he had not even time to raise his pistol-when the supposed Lieutenant de Ravenel ran to him and laid a hand on his wrist. "Jean!"

"What trick is this?"

Christiane took off her hat and cloak. . . . She was once more a woman, and, in spite of her cropped hair, a beautiful woman. She smiled.

"Jean," she repeated. Her voice was sweet, low, full of enchantment. "If it is true if you still love me, take me . . . I will come."

-

St. Ruth stared at her, stupefied. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I will live with you as your wife if you will spare Marshal de Ravenel's life to France- to the Emperor."

"I am not particularly anxious to do either of them a good turn. . . . They have robbed me of all they could. . . . And you're not in a position to make terms with me, madame." He spoke with brutality, but those watching could see that he loved her. "I can have you without giving such a high price for you, my dear."

...

De Ravenel, who, throughout the conversation between Christiane and St. Ruth, had remained motionless, looking out with fixed, immovable eyes, bowed slightly. . . . The room was as quiet as a room where some one has just died. Brétigny, whose pure and profound love for the woman made him blind to everything but her suffering, felt certain that de Ravenel was not going to accept her sacrifice. . . . But Delaroche remembered Napoleon's desertion of the wounded after Wagram, and before him, like a star, trembled the face of Josephine. . . . The door opened once more, this time to admit the Marshal's equerry.

...

His

"Your horse, monseigneur." voice could hardly be heard for the din outside. . . . Bands were playing, regiments marching past-from thousands of throats rose the cry, "L'Empereur, Vive l'Empereur!"

With a white, resolute face, the youngest Marshal in that magnificent army crossed the room. . . . Before Christiane he stopped, and bowing low, kissed her hand. She waved her free hand in the air. "To the Emperor!" she cried.

"To the Emperor," he repeated, with more firmness and less exaltation. "Good-by, Christiane."

He went out. The door closed. . . . They saw him ride past the window, superb in the sunlight.

"I expect you mean to cheat me. You will find it difficult. . . . If you come back to me, what about your child?" "Surely we can settle these details later. . . . Marshal de Ravenel has to meet the Emperor, and time presses. . . . I give you my word that if he leaves this room now . . . I will not see him again." "How do I know that you will keep your word?" asked St. Ruth, sullenly. "Women never play the game."

"When I break my word . . . your agreement to relinquish your shot is at

"I hope that few men in the world are so selfish as that," said Brétigny to Delaroche. "I would have died a thousand deaths before I . . . I would rather..."

"But then you are not a great man," said Delaroche.

W

ITHIN the domain of the Unit

ed States on the North-American continent there have been divers independent republics, the very name of three of which is known to but a few, while the record of two others, though memorable, is fast fading. How many Americans of to-day have heard, for example, of the Commonwealth of Watauga, which in 1772 was organized as an independent community by NorthCarolinians who had crossed the Alleghenies, and, descending into the basin of the Tennessee, had made themselves homes in the valley of the Watauga River? How many remember the Commonwealth of Transylvania, which was organized in the eastern part of what is now Kentucky in 1775, and which sent to the Continental Congress a delegate, -who, however, was not admitted? How many have heard of the short-lived State of Franklin, or Frankland, which at a somewhat later period was self-created

out of certain western counties of North Carolina? Of the present generation of schoolboys at the North, not many are familiar with the early history of Texas, which declared its independence of Mexico in 1836, and which for some nine years remained an autonomous republic, entering into treaties with foreign countries, including the United States. Again, but little attention is now paid to that part of the annals of Vermont which deals with the fourteen years during which the territory bearing that name was an independent republic, unadmitted to the union of the American colonies, although it disclaimed allegiance to the British crown, rejected the overtures of British generals, and bore a conspicuous and useful part in the war of the Revolution. It is worth while to review the circumstances under which Vermont assumed a position so anomalous and so calculated to test the stuff of which her patriots were made.

Although the region which we call Vermont was made known to Europeans by Samuel Champlain as early as 1609, and although during the next century and a half the lake named after that explorer was a thoroughfare for military expeditions in Indian and colonial wars, and although strategic points within the area of the present State were occupied by French and English military posts, the first permanent settlement was made as lately as 1724, at Fort Dummer, within the limits of the town of Brattleboro. Even in 1760 Vermont did not contain more than 300 inhabitants, and these were scattered along the western bank of the Connecticut River, within fifty miles of the southern border of the present State. The truth is that, aside from the danger to which English settlers would be exposed at the hands of the French and the Indians, there was no provincial authority which could give an undisputed title to the lands lying between

ritory, and the settlers declined to recognize the New York provincial authorities. The determination of New York to enforce its jurisdiction would, no doubt, have led to bloodshed had not the attention of the colonists been diverted from local disputes by the controversies with the mother country which preceded the Revolutionary war. It is worth while to note the grounds on which the Brit

the Connecticut and Lake Champlain. New Hampshire claimed that, under a royal grant, it extended as far west as did Massachusetts. Massachusetts claimed a strip of Vermont lying between the Connecticut River and Lake Champlain and immediately north of the present boundary of the old Bay State. New York, on the other hand, claimed that, under the grant made by Charles II. to his brother, the Duke of York, her territory stretched as far east as the Connecticut River. Ultimately, in 1764, the boundary controversy was determined by the British crown in favor of New York; but meanwhile Wentworth, the royal Governor of New Hampshire, had chartered 138 towns in the disputed ter

ish Board of Trade, which at first regarded the boundary controversy with indifference, was ultimately persuaded to confirm New York's claim to the land between the Connecticut River and Lake Champlain. Weight was attached by the Board of Trade to the argument put forward by Lieutenant-Governor Colden of New York, who pointed out that the New England governments were all formed on republican principles, and that those principles were zealously inculcated in the minds of their youth. The government of the prov

ince of New York, on the other hand, was framed, he said, as nearly as might be, after the model of the English Constitution. It would be bad policy, therefore, for British statesmen to contract the frontiers of New York and enlarge the power and influence of New-Englanders.

The Green Mountain Boys, as the occupants of the New Hampshire Grants west of the Connecticut River were called, had, perhaps, stronger reasons than any other American colonists for rebelling against the British crown. They had at stake not only the political liberties which were threatened by Parliament's assumption of a right to tax the colonies, but also the title to the homes which they had created in the wilderness;