his practice of accosting mere strangers had
made habitual.

He saw it was a large, full, and pink-faced
gentleman in a grey travelling-cap, well drawn
down, which seemed like a nightcap, and a
distinguished air of wealthy portliness. Beside
him was a very girl, blooming, petite,
with rosy cheeks, though a little overcome
with modesty at the publicity she was exciting.
The dusty gentleman stood by with a little
curiosity. He had seen Mr. Blacker's eagerness,
and was amused. As the door was
opened, the pair seemed not a little nervous at
all the faces, strange, voluble, half-savage,
half good-humoured, which were bent on
them. Then the chorus broke out. "Go to
Roy'l H'tel, my lor'!" "Take you to Wheelers,
on the port, near the ships!" "Take my
card, sir; the Roy'l is full!" "Hôtel du
Nord!" "Hôtel d'Angleterre!" At these
invitations they seemed to be a little terrified.
The dusty gentleman, still watching, was more
amazed at seeing Mr. Blacker elbow his way
among them all, calling loftily to the man in
white tape, and boots, and huge sabre,

"Here, John Darm! make way, do; it's
unbearable; the thing wouldn't be allowed
in England. Do keep back. Good evening,
sir; let me help you. These are only the ways
of the place. This must be put down by
government. I am Mr. Blacker, a resident
here for many years. If I can be of any use, I
shall be delighted."

"Oh, sir!" said the lady, "how kind of you!
We don't know what to do. There is some
mistake about our passport."

"Yes," said the pink gentleman in the
travelling-cap, with an air of half terror, half
worry, "it has been wrong all the way
from Paris, and they have been threatening us.
I am an English gentleman—Mr. Wilkinson,
on our tour; and we are willing to pay, I am
sure."

Mr. Blacker's face fell; he had counted on a
milord, at least. Still there was wealth. His
face spread out again into an universal and
almost devouring smile.

"Oh! that is nothing; leave it to me. You
go to a hotel, of course! The Royal I would
recommend; but, of course——"

Here the chorus broke in, as that word was
caught. A dozen dirty hands, holding dirty
cards, were thrust out on both sides of Mr.
Blacker.

"Confusion!" he said, angrily; "will you
keep back?"

"Oh, thank you," said the lady. "You are
so kind. We did not know where to go."

"Leave it all to me, then," went on Mr.
Blacker, with the rapidity and promptness of
a general giving orders. "You will go to the
Royal. Mention my name, and Le Buff will
do his best for you. Here, some one, tell
Mr. Sody to come out. Dites à M. Sody
d'approcher. Mr. le Chef, there is some
errure here about the passport; n'est pas en
règle, you see." This was addressed to an
officer in a double-horned cap with tassels,
who, with a bundle of open papers in his hand,
was striding towards them. The officer bowed
a great deal as M. Blackhaire spoke to him
privately and with great earnestness, for he, too,
had the general complimentary impression that
the English were in occupation of his town,
and its real rulers. There was no difficulty
beyond the usual conventional irregularity which
the police often delighted in discovering and as
readily condoned, and they graciously consented
that the lady and gentleman might proceed to
the Royale, where "Mr. the chief" would wait
on them himself in person. Mr. Blacker
announced  these glad tidings to the strangers
with very much the air of one who has obtained
a reprieve.

"I'll see you, myself, in the morning—will
call up. I am Mr. Blacker, the secretary to
the English Church here, trustee, and all that,
you know, and I dare say could be of a
little use to you. The authorities are fair
enough. Willing to do what they can to
oblige me. Here, you drive this lady and
gentleman to the Royal. Good evening;" and in
a profusion of grateful acknowledgments the
pair were driven away.

His wife at home was surprised at the
spirits in which her husband returned. Here,
indeed, were the "most charming people"
—"quite an acquisition"—the "best-bred
air"—swans, in short, of a far darker hue than
the Beauforts. So in a prolific family the newer
and later baby puts the penultimate bantling
"out of joint."

The dusty gentleman had seen the whole
proceeding with a smile. It was "such a bit of
human nature," he thought. Mr. Blacker had
walked past him, his eyes seeing only airy
visions, his mouth smiling at its welkin, and
without even dreaming that he had seen him
only a few moments before. He himself took
his way home.

"I shall have to go to a dreary hotel after
all," he was thinking, "to be elbowed by
a cold crowd, to be sitting in public three-
quarters of the day, and served as though
I was one of a regiment. I can't endure it.
A servant's face, even, in one of those rooms,
would be something more comforting, more of
the air of home."

A gentle face—almost as he spoke—that of
a young girl, had come hastily out of "Chang
Purdry's"—thus known to the English—a
very stout artist, in a white cap and apron,
and a fierce knife always in his hand. He
kept a "charcuterie," and it was owned
grudgingly by Captain Filby that his
sausages were "uncommon good, though Heaven
only knows how many cats the rascal
chopped up in 'em." The young lady, coming
out hastily, with a little bag in her hand, almost
ran up against the traveller. She drew back
with the conventional cry and start. He
apologised; but stopped, and said:

"Why, Miss Lucy Dacres! is it not? You
remember, I came over with your papa?"