the fire. I turned towards it.

As I sat down I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror above the
fireplace. It was an unflattering glass, with a wave across the surface
that divided my face into two ill-fitting halves, and a film upon it,
due, I suppose, to the smoke of the wood-fire below. But the setting of
this mirror and the fireplace itself were by far the most noteworthy
objects in the whole room. I set myself idly to examine them.

It was an open hearth, and the blazing faggot lay on the stone itself.
The andirons were of indifferently polished steel, and on either side of
the fireplace two Ionic pilasters of dark oak supported a narrow
mantel-ledge. Above this rested the mirror, flanked by a couple of
naked, flat-cheeked boys, who appeared to be lowering it over the fire
by a complicated system of pulleys, festoons, and flowers.
These flowers and festoons, as well as the frame of the mirror, were of
some light wood--lime, I fancy--and reminded me of Grinling Gibbons'
work; and the glass tilted forward at a surprising angle, as if about to
tumble on the hearth-rug. The carving was exceedingly delicate.
I rose to examine it more narrowly. As I did so, my eyes fell on three
letters, cut in flowing italic capitals upon a plain boss of wood
immediately over the frame, and I spelt out the word _FVI_.

_Fui_--the word was simple enough; but what of its associations?
Why should it begin to stir up again those memories which were memories
of nothing? _Fui_--"I have been"; but what the dickens have I been?

The landlord came in with my dinner.

"Ah!" said he, "you're looking at our masterpiece, I see."