following morning. . . . Four little gloves of
the finest kid-skin were first to be put on
her four legs, and tied with silk strings. In
attempting to do this, the poor servant
received a great number of scratches, without
daring to utter a word, or even to look
displeased. This operation performed, puss was
dressed in a short petticoat of white satin
trimmed with silver, and a purple robe
embroidered with gold. A string of fine pearl
was fastened round her neck; while a superb
laced cap was placed on her head. Her ladyship
surveyed her favourite with looks of
the utmost fondness—with such as I have
sometimes seen a tender mother gazing on
her first-born child. Scarcely could I
contain my gravity; but, as I knew very well
the distinction which exists between a noble
countess and the wife of a tobacco merchant,
I contrived to keep myself within due
bounds." The "wife of the tobacco
merchant" was a person at whose house Mr.
Jorgen Jorgenson says that he was a frequent
guest; but she was corpulent, and nothing but
a tradesman's wife; so that, when she
described with illustrative gesture the charms
of two English girls with whom the French
were smitten, "the caricature before me,
provoked a loud and insulting laugh, on my part,
which continued for several minutes. Had I
been guilty of so much rudeness towards
an English lady, I should have been severely
checked for my unmannerly behaviour; but
here I encountered no such treatment; for
Madame ascribed that to the effect of her wit,
which certainly proceeded from a very
different cause. Curiosity led me to inquire
who the two English ladies might be that
had appeared with so much éclat at St. Cloud;
and I found them to be the daughters of a
linendraper in London, who had come over to
Paris in search of that which they despaired
of procuring at home—I mean, husbands."

Perhaps there is enough here to show the
nature of our friend, and help us to a better
understanding of the little revolution he effected
in the state of Iceland. There was war, it is
to be remembered, between England and
Denmark. No sooner had he become an English
prisoner than he began unscrupulously to
consult his own interests by dealing knavishly
with his own country; but he dealt knavishly
with England, too; for he did not hesitate
to break his parole very soon after he had
signed it. Supplies from the mother country
being the mainstay of the Icelanders, and the
arrival of these being much hindered by the
war, the people of that island were in a
difficult position, and it was proposed by an
English merchant (Mr. Phelps), who acted
under the advice of Jorgenson, to derive
profit from this circumstance by sending a
cargo to Reikiavik; bringing home in
exchange for it the tallow said to be accumulating
in the ports of Iceland, and awaiting
opportunity of being taken into Denmark.
In January, eighteen hundred and nine, the
ship Clarence, with Jorgenson on board (who,
as before said, broke his parole by sailing in
it), arrived at the capital of Iceland; where,
in the absence of Count Tramp, the governor,
who chanced to be in Denmark, the authorities
abided by the rule that forbade trading
with foreigners. The Clarence at first
attempted to trade as a neutral under American
colours, then showed the British flag—the
refusal to trade being persisted in, although
the vessel had left England with a letter of
marque, that included an express stipulation
with the owner that the captain should not
seize or capture any vessel, either in the ports
of Iceland or in sight of its coasts, on penalty
of a forfeiture of eight thousand pounds. The
supercargo released the captain from his
bond, and seizure was made of a Danish
brig, which had arrived from Norway with
provisions. You shall not use your own
stores, but buy ours, said these Englishmen,
under a renegade Dane's counsel, to the
subjects of the Dane.

Reikiavik was but a poor little town
built chiefly of wood, liable to be destroyed
in a few hours by any vessel that would use a
gun or two against it; and the destruction of
their town in winter time would be a terrible
calamity to the poor Icelanders. The local
authorities consented, therefore, to a convention
which permitted trade between Reikiavik
and the Clarence; but the English speculation
did not prove very successful, and the
Clarence presently went home again in
ballast, having Mr. Jorgenson on board.

Early in June Count Tramp, the governor
of Iceland, returned to his post. There is
abundant reason for believing that he was a
man of honour and an educated gentleman.
He did not approve of the convention that
had been extorted from his people; but,
respecting it, confirmed it formally ten
days afterwards to the captain of a British
sloop of war. Free trade was allowed during
the war to British subjects who should visit
Iceland and submit themselves, while there, to
Danish laws. On the twenty-first of June—
two days after the departure of the sloop—
there arrived in the harbour of Reikiavik
Jorgen Jorgenson again, with Mr. Phelps the
merchant, on board a fine ship carrying ten
guns—the Margaret and Anne—having also
in company a brig—the Flora. The merchant
brought, in these two vessels, another cargo.
The new-comers waited four days; and, as
within that time, they were not sought by
the Icelandic traders, they resolved to seize
Count Tramp, and to make a prize of the
Orion; a brig of his provided with a
licence from the British government, and
loaded with goods to the value of six
thousand dollars, which were about to be
distributed gratuitously for the relief of
the poor Icelanders. For this seizure, excuse
was found by the ingenious Mr. Jorgenson,
and so began the revolution, in which,
says Sir William Hooker, who described it in