complexion--the long and bushy beard were there--but instead of the
sleepy and solemn character of the oriental, with heavy eye and closed
lip, there was a droll, half-devilry in the look, and partly open mouth,
that made a most laughable contrast with the head-dress. He looked
stealthily around him for an instant, as if to see that all was right,
and then, with an accent and expression I shall never forget, said, "I'll
taste your wine, gentleman, an it be pleasing to ye."




CHAPTER XLV.

A DAY IN THE PHOENIX.

When we were once more in the coupe of the diligence, I directed my
entire attention towards my Irish acquaintance, as well because of his
apparent singularity, as to avoid the little German in the opposite
corner.

"You have not been long in France, then, sir," said I, as we resumed our
conversation.

"Three weeks, and it seems like three years to me--nothing to
eat--nothing to drink--and nobody to speak to. But I'll go back soon
--I only came abroad for a month."

"You'll scarcely see much of the Continent in so short a time."

"Devil a much that will grieve me--I didn't come to see it."