special express, was there,--all there! The Authorities on the line
made no extra charge for taking _The Wrecker_ as luggage.

The weather was favourable for reading; an interminable downpour, when
one is grateful for any book, even a _Dictionary of Dates_, or the
remains of a _Boyle's Court Guide_. The Brave Baron shut himself into
his room, laid in stores of tobacco and grog, decided, in the course
of half an hour, on a comfortable position, and then laid himself out
for the perusal, not to say the study, of _The Wrecker_. Introductory
Chapter excellent,--appetising. "_Oliver_ asks for more," murmurs
the Baron to himself, settling down to "the Yarn." Chapter I. Now a
strange thing happened. The Story broke off! suddenly--inexplicably.
Descriptions, yes, by the handful, by the cartload--all excellent, no
doubt--and much to be appreciated by a reader with nothing on earth
to do the whole year round; but, about page 53, the Baron began to be
uneasy, shifted his pillows, refilled pipe, took "modest quencher,"
and then turned to grapple with _The Wrecker_. No good. Where the
deuce had the Story got to? When would the excitement come in? Where
was the sensation? Toiling on, went the Baron, stopping frequently
to wish he had a dictionary wherein he might ascertain the meaning of
strange, uncouth words and phrases, and to anathematise the Authors
separately or together. Had OSBOURNE interfered with STEVENSON, or was
STEVENSON allowing OSBOURNE to have his say, reserving himself for a
grand _coup_ at half-price? Would OSBOURNE chuck STEVENSON overboard,
or was it to be t'other way off? At page 90 the Baron decided he
would take a walk round, even if it were pouring cats and dogs, and
exclaiming, "Air, air, give me air!" he rushed forth. It was fine.
A brisk walk and a talk--just like King CHARLES "who walked and
talked"--with his genial host REGI SYDE, restored the Baron's
circulation, and made him wonder to himself at the reported great