There were a good many foreigners of rank at Mivart's, and the waiters
took my companion for an ambassador at least:--he received their homage
with the mingled dignity and condescension natural to so great a man.

As the day was now far advanced, I deemed it but hospitable to offer Mr.
Job Jonson some edible refreshment. With the frankness on which he so
justly valued himself, he accepted my proposal. I ordered some cold meat,
and two bottles of wine; and, mindful of old maxims, deferred my business
till his repast was over. I conversed with him merely upon ordinary
topics, and, at another time, should have been much amused by the
singular mixture of impudence and shrewdness which formed the stratum of
his character.

At length his appetite was satisfied, and one of the bottles emptied;
with the other before him, his body easily reclining on my library chair,
his eyes apparently cast downwards, but ever and anon glancing up at my
countenance with a searching and curious look, Mr. Job Jonson prepared
himself for our conference; accordingly I began.

"You say that you are acquainted with Mr. Dawson; where is he at
present?"

"I don't know," answered Jonson, laconically.

"Come," said I, "no trifling--if you do not know, you can learn."

"Possibly I can, in the course of time," rejoined honest Job.

"If you cannot tell me his residence at once," said I, "our conference is