“That supposes these men to be of a different class, with different education and habits from the common soldier.  The revolution and conscription has leveled all those distinctions.  Many a youth of good birth and education is made to bear his musket in the ranks, and does not elevate his comrades to his standard, but is soon degraded to the level of their sentiments and habits.  Many a French general, for instance Junot, has been raised from the ranks.  Military merit or accident has elevated them to command without a corresponding elevation of sentiment or principles.  It is not easy to make a gentleman in one generation:  somebody says, it takes three.”

“What a moderate man that somebody was!” said Lady Mabel; “I thought that the gentry of a country were like its timber, the slow growth of centuries, and that the beginning of nobility must be lost in the dark ages, unless you can find some great statesman, warrior, or freebooter of later date to start from.”

“But,” said L’Isle, laughing, “we find men whose pedigree fulfills your requisitions, who are not gentlemen in their own persons.  The son of a gentleman is too often one only in name.”

“I think,” said Lady Mabel, reflecting, “I have myself met with more than one gentleman rogue.”

“That is impossible,” said L’Isle, “for a gentleman is a superstructure which can be built on only one foundation—­an honest man.”

“We had better stop defining the gentleman,” said Lady Mabel, “lest between us we narrow down the class, until there are not enough left to officer a regiment, or for any other useful purpose.”

“This is a fine old building,” said Mrs. Shortridge, peeping into the church, “and it will be a convenient time to look at it, for it seems quite empty.”

“It is not much worth seeing,” said L’Isle, “but there is something beyond it which I would like to show you.”

They walked into it; but Moodie at first hung back, and hesitated to enter this idolatrous temple, until, luckily remembering the prophet’s permission to Naaman the Syrian to accompany his master to the house of Rimmon, he swallowed his scruples, and followed Lady Mabel.

Passing through the church, they came to an archway, over which was inscribed—­

  Nos os ossos que aqui estamos
  Pelos vossos esperamos.

Passing through it, they found themselves in a huge vault, its arched ceiling supported by large square piers, which, with the walls, were covered with human skulls, set in a hard cement.  By the dim light they saw on all sides thousands of ghastly human heads, grinning at them in death; the only signs of life being a few crouching devotees, prostrate before an illuminated shrine at the extremity of this Golgotha.

Both ladies paused, awe-stricken.  Lady Mabel turned pale, and Mrs. Shortridge, after gazing round her for a moment, uttered a little shriek, and covered her face with her hands.  To face these objects was painful enough, but to have them grinning on her, as in mockery, behind her back, was more than she could stand.  So seizing old Moodie by the arm, he being beside her, she rushed out of this charnel house, and impatiently called to the others to join her in the church.