at the 9— th mess, and they got Watkins— you've
heard of Watkins?"

As he got thus far, my hand shook so that
Galignani rustled in my grasp like an umbrella
in a high wind; but I held it firmly in front of
me, and hid my face. He went on:

""Watkins, they say, can surpass any one,
no matter who he is; and when they told him
that Barnes— that's the other fellow— was
coming—"

I could hear no more. I jumped up, I fear
with a cry, for I felt as if I was stung by a
snake. I rushed to my room, huddled my
clothes how I could into my trunk, and started
for Brussels the next day. I reached the
Rhine, and, crossing at Cologne, I set out for
Central Germany, never halting till I reached
Eisenach— a place so remote and unvisited that
I knew none would molest me. Eisenach is a
very lonesome spot. It was there, or at least
in its immediate neighbourhood, that Luther
sought refuge from persecution, and passed some
years of his life in the grim old castle of Washburg.
Well, I hope he liked it better than I
did. Indeed, I am certain he bore his
captivity as patiently. At last endurance reached
its limits. I grew so wearied of the little grass-
grown sheds, the half-open shops, the lazy little
fountain that took half an hour to trickle a can
full, and the dreary-looking inhabitants, whose
sole intercourse seemed taking hats off to each
other, that I emerged once more; saying to
myself, better be sunk by a broadside than rot
out in a dry dock. Besides, I thought, Watkins
is but one man. The world is wide. Why
should we even jostle each other?

I traversed Switzerland in safety, not seeking,
it is true, the most travelled route, but taking
the line of Zurich and Lucerne; from thence I
took boat for Ffluellen. The day was cold and
ungenial, and very few passengers cared to set
out. I was glad to see but one, who looked
like a countryman. He was a young fellow of
about my own age, externally very new to the
Continent, and far from accomplished as a
linguist. He smiled good naturedly, however,
at his own blunders— French or German — and
looked good humouredly at everything. He
was open and communicative about himself, and
told me that having been appointed to a civil
post at Ceylon, he was taking a rapid glance at
the Continent before starting. He did not
know nor even care which way he went he
had very vague notions as to geography generally,
and seemed absolutely indifferent whether
his course lay north or south.

"As you see," said he, " I am not strong in
languages, and have no acquaintance abroad,
the chances are that I shall not derive great
advantage from my foreign tour."

"Have you letters, or introductions?" asked I.

"None. Nothing of the kind. Stay; I have
one; but there's no place of address on it,
and I forget even the name of the person it is
meant for."

And we both laughed heartily at the thought
of credentials so likely to prove of service.

Mr. Towers— this was his name— was not an
entertaining companion. He was one of those
young Bulls that every one has met, who see
objects only on the outside, and see even that
wrong, who, taking England as the invariable
standard of excellence in everything, spend
their time in laughing at whatever is not
conformable to home notions, and regard the
Continent generally as very backward in civilisation.
But, as I said before, he was good humoured,
and what is called jolly; he made the best of the
little mishaps of the road, and laughed heartily
at his own blunders, when he came to perceive
them. He was so helpless, too, that I felt
drawn towards him by actual compassion. We
agreed, therefore, to travel together as far as
Turin, where, not knowing how long the
companionship might be endurable, I preferred to
have a friend awaiting me.

At Arona, we were detained by a heavy fall of
rain, which had swept away part of the road,
and rendered one of the bridges unsafe to pass
over. It was a dreary halt; for Towers was one
of those who required movement and fresh
objects of interest. He could not abide a book,
and hated a newspaper, and so he kept walking in
and out of the room all day, heaping wood on
the fire, or making the chimney smoke, fighting
with the landlord's terrier till it bit him, and
then teasing me to the verge of despair to
know whether hydrophobia showed itself
instantaneously, and constantly calling for brandy-
and-water, to test his powers of swallow. Then
he took an active turn, and fetched down all his
things to the sitting-room, began packing his
trunk afresh, commenting on each article as he
folded it, asking me what I thought this cost;
how long, I supposed, he had been wearing
that; if I could guess who it was that indented
those shoes, and so on. This completed, he
undertook the same task with his dressing-case,
expatiating on the softness of his shaving-brush,
and the especial merits of his tooth-powder.
Then there were studs and wrist-buttons and
watch trinkets. This order of being is always
curious in such matters, and is certain to have
a pin with a larger pearl or a finer emerald than
Roskell could procure for money. He passed
them all in review, and came down at last to
the little looking-glass at the bottom, lifting up
which he took out a sealed letter. " There it
is," said he, " if any one could tell me where
to find him."

"Why this is for me," cried I, snatching it
out of his hand; " Thomas Rigby Barnes, that's
my name;" and I broke the seal with impatience.

"Are you ill? are you faint? Shall I get
you something?- brandy? gin? No one dead,
I hope?" muttered he, as crushing the letter
in my hands I pushed rudely past him, and
gained the door; the minute after I was in my
own room, and the door locked and bolted. The
letter contained but half a dozen lines, and they
were these:

"Limner's, Bond-street.

"DEAR BARNES, Towers has asked me to
introduce him to the best fellow in Europe, and I