"And have you found this man?" inquires the anxious lady.

"I forthwith set about it," replies Mr. Snivel, "but as yet, am
unsuccessful. Nine months during the year his residence is the
jail--"

"The jail!"

"Yes, Madame, the jail. His profession, although essential to the
elevation of our politicians and statesmen, is nevertheless
unlawful. And he being obliged to practice it in opposition to the
law, quietly submits to the penalty, which is a residence in the old
prison for a short time. It's a nominal thing, you see, and he has
become so habituated to it that I am inclined to the belief that he
prefers it. I proceeded to the prison and found he had been
released. One of our elections comes off in a few days. The approach
of such an event is sure to find him at large. I sought him in all
the drinking saloons, in the gambling dens, in the haunts of
prostitution-in all the low places where our great politicians most
do assemble and debauch themselves. He was not to be found. Being of
the opposite party, I despatched a spy to the haunt of the committee
of the party to which he belongs, and for which he cribs. I have
paced the colonnade for more than an hour, waiting the coming of
this spy. He did not return, and knowing your anxiety in the matter
I returned to you. To-morrow I will seek him out; to-morrow I will
get from him what he knows of this woman you seek.

"And now, Madame, here is something I would have you examine." (Mr.
Snivel methodically says he got it of McArthur, the antiquary.) "She