unknown mechanism upon his mouth, surmounted by the huge goggles which
encased his eyes, that I believe I should have laughed outright, were
it not for a certain unpleasant and peculiar impressiveness in the
_tout ensemble_ of the narrow-chested, long-limbed, and cadaverous
figure in black. As it was, we stood looking at one another in silence
for several seconds.

"Thank you, sir," at last he said, abruptly. "I shan't want anything
whatever to-night; if you can only spare me this candle."

I assented; and, becoming more communicative, he added--

"I am, though an invalid, an independent sort of fellow enough. I am a
bit of a philosopher; I am my own servant, and, I hope, my own master,
too. I rely upon myself in matters of the body and of the mind. I place
valets and priests in the same category--fellows who live by our
laziness, intellectual or corporeal. I am a Voltaire, without his
luxuries--a Robinson Crusoe, without his Bible--an anchorite, without a
superstition--in short, my indulgence is asceticism, and my faith
infidelity. Therefore, I shan't disturb your servants much with my bell,
nor yourselves with my psalmody. You have got a rational lodger, who
knows how to attend upon himself."

During this singular address he was drawing off his ill-fitting black
gloves, and when he had done so, a bank-note, which had been slipped
underneath for safety, remained in his hand.

"Punctuality, sir, is one of my poor pleasures," he said; "will you allow
me to enjoy it now? To-morrow you may acknowledge this; I should not rest
were you to decline it."