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OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE.


pected he would, "Citizen, I don't know you."

With that I jumped out of the carriage, and threw my arms round the neck of my newly-found friend; the candle fell, the customs officer swore and pushed me away, and the inspector came out and asked what was the matter.

"Lieutenant," I said, " I appeal to you. Here is Durand, my old comrade, who won't recognize his friend Bernard, though he taught me the profession."

The inspector listened to what I had to say, the other officers turned out of the guard-house with torches, and the misunderstanding was cleared up,—much to my advantage. The inspector,—to whom I had been careful to apply the title of lieutenant, though he was only a brigadier,—was already disposed in my favour.

That I had been misled by a chance resemblance, and that the customs officer was not my old friend Durand, I was the first to acknowledge, but the inspector and all his assistants,—even the one I had baptized Durand,—were all very polite to me,