wine in which he had imprudently over-indulged at the evening's garrison
officer's dinner. Had he but patriotically stuck to the beer! But that
was not worth lamenting now. He tendered his regrets to the father of
the young lady and promised to use his poor influence--here he smiled at
the disparagement as if he knew his power and that his hearer was sure
of it--for her professional advancement as long as she rejoiced Munich
with her beauty and accomplishments.

The night in the dead-house, on the very brink of the deathpit, had
transformed him, he freely acknowledged. He hardly recognized his own
voice in communicating the sentiments that carried him into new
directions, so strange was it all, but he was eager to show by deeds
that his conversion was great and sincere. He had engaged his protection
for the distinguished turkophone-player and his unparalleled daughter,
but he felt that was enough.

"Ample," said Daniels, at last able to speak a word on the torrent of
glib language momentarily pausing; "but we are going away to fulfill an
engagement in Paris."

"One moment," said the major, politely lifting his hand from which he
kept the buckskin gauntlet as if he meant again to shake hands with the
Ishmael at their farewell. "Perhaps I cannot, then, be of service to
you, but there is another to whom my assistance is of other value--nay,
of the highest consequence. I am not referring to the young lady--whom
Munich will be so sorry to part with and whom I do not expect to see
again even to accept my excuses--but the student from the Polish
University who deservedly corrected me and brought me to my sober
senses--although, perhaps, he had a heavy hand." He spoke with an
assumption of manly regret, which enchanted the hearer and completed his