constitution, a popular parliament, and a responsible
ministry.

Poor fellows, poor fellows! They roam about
Hyde Park among the cast-iron trees, and, moping
there on the benches, dream of the Prater, of
Unter-den-Linden, of the Boulevards, of the
square of the Duomo, of the Cascine, of the
Pincian Hill. The little children play round
them, but they heed them not; the stolid
policeman stares at them ominously; they see
him not; their minds are away to other climes
and other days.

Then, as evening comes, and darkens over the
dewy grass, and as the street lamps shine out,
they awake from their dreams, and slink away to
their poor meal and the everlasting dominoes at
my old haunt— the Café Restaurant à la
Cagmaggerie.

           PURSUED BY P. W.

IT was in a brief yachting ramble which I
made in a small schooner lent me by a friend at
Malta that I put in at Tangiers. The yacht
needed some slight repairs, and I myself
required a little exercise on shore, and the freshening
influences of those land-breezes which are so
dear to the landsman's heart.

I knew no one, nor— never contemplating
such a visit — had I provided myself with even
a letter of introduction. But I did not repine
at my isolation, devoting myself to see a number
of new objects in a land totally strange to me.
My practice was to mount my horse early, and,
having sent forward my servant to an appointed
spot, to breakfast under the palm-trees wherever
any grand or striking panorama of the scenery
presented itself. In this bivouac fashion I
frequently passed days, and even nights; for in
this climate, except in particular seasons, there
is no fear of malaria.

While thus living my gipsy life, I strolled
one evening along the bank of a dried-up
torrent, whose massive stones and great trunks
of trees plainly revealed what a volume of
water must occasionally sweep down, fed by
hundreds of mountain rivulets. The dreary
desolation, combined with a certain beauty;
the mingled richness and barrenness; the fresh
tints of foliage contrasting with the bright-red
soil, made up a picture thoroughly African. My
astonishment was, however, great to perceive
that the lonesome spot had been selected for a
residence, and— to judge from the trim and
graceful character of the little cottage— by one
not deficient in taste. The building, which was
singularly small, was of cane, but with deep
shadowing eaves all around it; the pillars
supporting which were covered with rich flowering
creepers. The little garden, too, showed signs
of tasteful culture, and glowed with a rich
luxuriance of flowers that reminded one of
Holland. As I drew near I saw a man, whom,
at a glance, I knew to be an European, busily
watering the plants. For a while he had not
noticed my approach; but, on turning, he caught
sight of me, and, as suddenly throwing down
his watering-pot, fled towards the house, not
only banging the door after him, but barring
and bolting it inside.

I opened the little wicket and approached the
house, desirous, at least, by a word of apology,
to excuse my sudden intrusion; but though I
addressed the inmate in French, English, Italian,
and Spanish, the extent of my lingual attainments,
he vouchsafed no reply. After a few
more attempts, all unsuccessful, I turned my
steps homeward, wondering not a little what
the event might mean.

Three nights after this I went to the
consulate to fetch away some letters which had
been addressed there for me. I had given orders
to heave short on the anchor, that I might get
under weigh immediately on my arriving on
board. The consul was from home, but an
official of the consulate met me with my letters,
and expressed the regret of his chief, that he
had not had the pleasure of my acquaintance.
As we chatted together thus passingly, I could
not help reverting to my late excursion and the
little incident I have just related.

"Oh, he's an Englishman — that fellow is
English— but as to his name or his family, or
what he has done, or why he came here, we
have never found out. The consul made several
advances to him, asked him repeatedly here,
invited him to a Christmas dinner, and so on;
but all in vain. His replies were, however,
couched in the language of one accustomed to
the courtesies of life. The only civility he will
accept of is the loan of a newspaper; his Arab
servant comes periodically for the Times. For
a while we thought he must be insane, but
that is evidently not the case. The secret
most probably touches some of those
disastrous bubble speculations— British Bank
rascalities— which we read of, and my own
impression is that he has been implicated in the
rogueries—"

"Or ruined by their fraud?" interposed I.

"Perhaps so," said he, dryly; and thus the
conversation closed.

When I got down to the wharf where my boat
lay awaiting me, the coxswain told me that a
strange-looking man, who wore a sort of haïk
over his English dress, had left a sealed packet
for me, having first asked my name, which he
appended to the envelope in pencil. By the
description, I at once recognised the recluse. I
own that my first impression was to include him
in that category which, as begging impostors,
have almost reached the rank of professionals,
but on reflecting how little benefit could accrue
to the application made to one whose topsail-
sheet was then " to the wind," I took the first
quiet moment, after we got under weigh, to break
the seal and read.

The manuscript was very clearly and cleanly
written, not a blot nor an erasure throughout.
A small slip of paper, meant specially for myself,
dropped out as I opened it, but contained only
this one line: " If you hear of P. W., pray drop
me a line." The manuscript— manifestly an
autobiography— began thus: