wish to see him."

"What name, if you plaise," asked the waiter, with assumed indifference;
for the truth was, that the whole establishment felt a very natural
curiosity to know who the stranger was.

"Never mind the name, Paudeen, but say as I desire you."

Paudeen had no sooner disappeared than the anonymous gentleman went to
one of his trunks, and, pulling out a very small miniature, surveyed
it for nearly half a minute; he then looked into the fire, and seemed
absorbed in long and deep reflection. At length, after once more gazing
closely and earnestly at it, he broke involuntarily into the following
soliloquy:

"I know," he exclaimed, "that resemblances are often deceitful, and not
to be depended upon. In this case, however, there is scarcely a trace
that could constitute any particular peculiarity--a peculiarity
which, if it existed, would strengthen--I know not whether to say--my
suspicions or my hopes. The early disappearance of that poor boy,
without the existence of a single vestige by which he could be traced,
resembles one of those mysteries that are found only in romances. The
general opinion is, that he has been made away with, and is long dead;
yet of late, a different impression has gone abroad, although we know
not exactly how it has originated."

He then paced, with a countenance of gloom, uncertainty, and deep
anxiety, through the room, and after a little time, proceeded:

"I shall, at all events, enter into conversation with this person, after