be heard of him in the neighborhood of Rouen. There has been no evidence
of his death; and there is no sign that he is living."

"That certainly is a most singular case," I replied, and was about to
ask a question or two, when Tom Whistlewick who, without my observing
it, had been taking a ramble, returned, a great deal more awake, and a
great deal less tipsy.

"I say, Carmaignac, it is getting late, and I must go; I really must,
for the reason I told you--and, Beckett, we must soon meet again."

"I regret very much, Monsieur, my not being able at present to relate to
you the other case, that of another tenant of the very same room--a case
more mysterious and sinister than the last--and which occurred in the
autumn of the same year."

"Will you both do a very good-natured thing, and come and dine with me
at the Dragon Volant tomorrow?"

So, as we pursued our way along the Galerie des Glaces, I extracted
their promise.

"By Jove!" said Whistlewick, when this was done; "look at that pagoda,
or sedan chair, or whatever it is, just where those fellows set it down,
and not one of them near it! I can't imagine how they tell fortunes so
devilish well. Jack Nuffles--I met him here tonight--says they are
gypsies--where are they, I wonder? I'll go over and have a peep at the
prophet."

I saw him plucking at the blinds, which were constructed something on