rapid pace.

"Give me the reins, malappris! tu m'ecrases le corps, manant!" yelled
the frantic nobleman, writhing underneath the intrepid charioteer.

"Tant pis pour toi, nigaud," was the reply. The lovely Amethyst of
course had fainted; but she recovered as she was placed in her carriage,
and rewarded her preserver with a celestial smile.

The rage, the fury, the maledictions of Borodino, as he saw the
latter--a liveried menial--stoop gracefully forward and kiss Amethyst's
hand, may be imagined rather than described. But Jeames heeded not his
curses. Having placed his adored mistress in the carriage, he calmly
resumed his station behind. Passion or danger seemed to have no
impression upon that pale marble face.

Borodino went home furious; nor was his rage diminished, when, on coming
to dinner that day, a recherche banquet served in the Frangipane best
style, and requesting a supply of a puree a la bisque aux ecrevisses,
the clumsy attendant who served him let fall the assiette of vermeille
cisele, with its scalding contents, over the prince's chin, his Mechlin
jabot, and the grand cordon of the Legion of honor which he wore.

"Infame," howled Borodino, "tu l'as fait expres!"

"Oui, je l'ai fait expres," said the man, with the most perfect Parisian
accent. It was Jeames.

Such insolence of course could not be passed unnoticed even after the
morning's service, and he was chassed on the spot. He had been but a