obstinacy, and signified that he was his guide. Quite so, and Skepsey
showed alacrity and confidence in following; he carried his bag. But
with the remembrance of the kindly serviceable man at Rouen, he sought to
convey to the porter, that the terms of their association were cordial.
A waving of the right hand to the heavens ratified the treaty on the
French side. Nods and smiles and gesticulations, with across-Channel
vocables, as it were Dover cliffs to Calais sands and back, pleasantly
beguiled the way down to the Hotel du Paradis, under the Mausoleum
heights, where Skepsey fumbled at his pocket for coin current; but the
Frenchman, all shaken by a tornado of negation, clapped him on the
shoulder, and sang him a quatrain. Skepsey had in politeness to stand
listening, and blinking, plunged in the contrition of ignorance,
eclipsed. He took it to signify something to the effect, that money
should not pass between friends. It was the amatory farewell address of
Henri IV. to his Charmante Gabrielle; and with

'Perce de mille lords,
L'honneur m'appelle
Au champ de Mars,'

the Frenchman, in a backing of measured steps, apologized for his
enforced withdrawal from the stranger who had captured his heart.

Skepsey's card was taken in the passage of the hotel. A clean-capped
maid, brave on the legs, like all he had seen of these people, preceded
him at quick march to an upper chamber. When he descended, bag in hand,
she flung open the salon-door of a table d'hote, where a goodly number
were dining and chattering; waiters drew him along to the section
occupied by his master's party. A chair had been kept vacant for him;
his master waved a hand, his dear ladies graciously smiled; he struck the