necessity of these little expansions of eccentricity
as I have? Was there always in your heart, as
a young man, as there is now in mine, a profound
contempt for the opinions of your contemporaries?
Did you continually find yourself repeating,
' Respice finem! Mark where I shall
be yet?' " There was another investigation
which touched me still more closely, but it was
long before I could approach it. I saw all the
difficulty and the delicacy of the inquiry, but
with that same recklessness of consequences
which would make me catch at a queen by the
back hair if I was drowning, I clutched at this
discovery now, and, although trembling at my
boldness, asked: " Was your grace ever afraid?
I know the impertinence of the question, but if
you only guessed how it concerns me, you'd forgive
it. Nature has made me many things, but
not courageous. Nothing on earth could induce
me to risk life; the more I reason about it the
greater grows my repugnance. Now, I would
like to hear, is this what anatomists call congenital?
Am I likely to grow out of it? Shall
I ever be a dare-devil, intrepid, fire-eating sort
of creature? How will the change come over
me? Shall I feel it coming? Will it come
from within, or through external agencies? and
when it has arrived, what shall I become? Am
I destined to drive the Zouaves into the sea by
a bayonet charge of the North Cork Rifles, or
shall I only be great in council, and take weekly
trips in the Fairy to Cowes? I'd like to know
this, and begin a course of preparation for my
position, as I once knew of a militia captain who
hardened himself for a campaign by sleeping
every night with his head on the window-stool."

As I opened my eyes I saw the stern features
in front of me. I thought the words, " I was
never afraid, sir!" rang through my brain till
they filled every ventricle with their din.

"Not at Assaye?"

"No, sir."

"Not at the Douro?"

"No, sir."

"Not at Torres Vedras?"

"I tell you again, no, sir!"

Whether I uttered this last with any uncommon
degree of vehemence or not, I so frightened
Vaterchen that he cut a somersault clean over
the chair, and stood grinning at me through the
rails at the back of it. I motioned to him to
be reseated, while, passing my hand across my
brow, I waved away the bright illusions that
beset me, and, with a heavy sigh, re-entered the
dull world of reality.

"You are a clown," said I, meditatively.
"What is a clown?"

He did not answer me in words, but, placing
his hands on his knees, stared at me steadfastly,
and then, having fixed my attention, his face
performed a series of the most fearful contortions
I ever beheld. With one horrible spasm
he made his mouth appear to stretch from ear to
ear; with another, his nose wagged from side
to side; with a third, his eyebrows went up and
down alternately, giving the different sides of
his face two directly antagonistic expressions.
I was shocked and horrified, and called to him
to desist.

"And yet," thought I, "there are natures
who can delight in these, and see in them matter
for mirth and laughter!

"Old man," said I, gravely, " has it ever occurred
to you that in this horrible commixture of
expression, wherein grief wars with joy and
sadness with levity, you are like one who, with
a noble instrument before him, should, instead
of sweet sounds of harmony, produce wild,
unearthly discords, the jangling bursts of fiend-like
voices?"

"The Tintefleck can play indifferently well,
your excellency," said he, humbly. "I never
had any skill that way myself."

Oh, what a crassa natura was here! What a
triple wall of dulness surrounds such dark intelligences!

"And where is the Tintefleck? Why is she
not here?" asked I, anxious to remove the discussion
to a ground of more equality.

"She is without, your excellency. She did
not dare to present herself till your excellency
had desired, and is waiting in the corridor."

"Let her come in," said I, grandly; and I
drew my chair to a distant corner of the room
so as to give them a wider area to appear in,
while I could at the same time assume that attitude
of splendid ease and graceful protection I
have seen a prince accomplish on the stage at
the moment the ballet is about to begin. The
door opened, and Vaterchen entered leading
Tintefleck by the hand.

CHAPTER XXVII.

I WAS quite right—Tintefleck's entrée was
quite dramatic. She tripped into the room
with a short step, nor arrested her run till she
came close to me, when, with a deep curtsey,
she bent down very low, and then, with a single
spring backward, retreated almost to the door
again. She was very pretty—dark enough to
be a Moor, but with a rich brilliancy of skin
never seen amongst that race, for she was a
Calabrian; and as she stood there, with her
arms crossed before her, and one leg firmly
advanced, and with the foot—a very pretty foot—
well planted, she was like—all the Italian
peasants one has seen in the National Gallery
for years back. There was the same look, half
defiant, half shy; the same elevation of sentiment
in the brow, and the same coarseness of
the mouth; plenty of energy, enough and to
spare of daring; but no timidity, no gentleness.

"What is she saying?" asked I of the old
man, as I overheard a whisper pass between
them. " Tell me what she has just said to you."

"It is nothing, your excellency—she is a
fool."

"That she may be, but I insist on hearing
what it was she said."

He seemed embarrassed and ashamed, and instead
of replying to me, turned to address some
words of reproach to the girl.

"I am waiting for your answer," said I, peremptorily.