elsewhere. He had entered upon hostilities
without counting the cost; but, for a time,
he maintained the conflict gallantly. Day
after day, he injured his digestion and
acidulated his blood, by such food and wine as are
procurable at the second rate hotels of Pera.
Night after night, he surrendered himself to
the blood-thirsty parasites that, utterly
banished by Missirie, seem rather to be encouraged
by his neighbours. At length, sickened
by dirt, soured by dyspepsia, haggard from
sleeplessness, disfigured by bug-bites, he cast
about for some means of establishing a truce.
He walked boldly, one morning, into the very
stronghold of the enemy, into the dining-room
of the Hotel d'Angleterre.

"Waiter!"

"Sir."

"I wish to dine here to-day. Keep me a
place."

"It is not possible, sir. M. Missirie has
given orders that no one shall be permitted
to dine in the house who is not staying
in it."

Like somebody else, Missirie avait donné
ses ordres! It was sublime. It was not only
sublime, but a master-stroke of bold and
subtle policy, conceived in the very spirit by
which Captain Maconochie maintained his
sway over the Norfolk Island convicts. Half-
a-dozen compatriots, men who had done no
wrong, were punished equally with the prin-
cipal offender; and were impelled to assist
in bringing him to submission. The gentleman
who had come about the mines, the
gentleman who had come about the railway, the
gentlemen who had come about the bank, or
the coal-pits, were all daily desirous to
nourish themselves at Missirie's table; and
were all excluded. They hated our own
correspondent. They conspired against his peace.
They would have liked to hoax him with false
intelligence; or to commit his body, in a sack,
to the swift current of the Bosphorus. He
could pardon their spleen; and could feel
some consideration for their undeserved
sufferings. Like a sensible man (as he is), he
determined to yield where resistance was so
vain. Once more he visited the private room,
this time with bated breath and trembling
accents. Missirie was gracious. The fatted
calf was killed with due solemnity. Since
that day, the repentant prodigal, who had
fed upon husks indeed, has been the greatest
ornament of the table to which he was
permitted to return; and a seat within hearing
of the wit and wisdom which sparkle through
his talk, has been the greatest reward in the
power of the despot to bestow. It is a boon
reserved, of course, for those who have never
approached the transgression of an
ordinance.

The most despotic monarchs, as we know,
have occasionally been thwarted in their
wishes, or diverted from their plans, by the
superior address and skill of the persons with
whom they have had to deal. Scheherazade
terminated the cruelties of her lord and
master: the shepherd of the Abbot of
Canterbury made a mockery of King John.
Missirie is human. He too, once met with his
match; and was not only defeated, but
laughed at.

It is one of the arrangements of the Hotel
d'Angleterre that (nearly) every sleeping-
room contains two beds; and it was enacted
during the war that every person occupying
a double-bedded room should be supposed to
have a companion, for whom, precisely as for
himself, he was compelled to pay; two beds,
two breakfasts, two dinners being regularly
charged. This afflictive dispensation was not
generally approved by those who became
subject to it; and a very gallant general, whose
portrait may be seen any day in Pall Mall,
took special care, immediately upon arriving
at Missirie's, to ask for a single-bedded room.
He was told that there was none then vacant;
and was forced to be content with what he
could get. The next morning, before entering
the breakfast-chamber, he stood for a
while at the outer door, looking upon the
street. There chanced to pass one of the
most scampish of those polyglot Levantine
vagabonds that infest Constantinople; one
whose scampishness was not at that time
prospering. The compassionate general pitied
his forlorn appearance, questioned him of his
affairs, and finally invited him to breakfast.
Dimitri, abashed, looked at his ragged elbows,
and feared a joke at his expense. But the
earnestness of the repeated invitation overcame
his scruples; and he followed his
hospitable entertainer. A step inside the hall,
he was collared by a porter in charge of stray
luggage; and would have been kicked out
instantly, had he not called to the general
for assistance.

"A friend of mine," said Sir Colin.

The porter, aghast, rushed into the private
room, and mentioned the name of the visitor.
His character was sufficiently known to
need no description. In a moment Missirie
appeared.

In his passion and consternation, in his
sudden plethora of ideas, in his eagerness to
express them, the great man mixed together,
in inextricable confusion, the four or five and
twenty languages any one of which, upon
ordinary occasions, he can speak with clearness
and precision. The result was a harangue,
doubtless eloquent; but which speedily went
beyond the comprehension of ordinary
linguists, into tongues known only to the late
Cardinal Mezzofanti, or the present erudite
vicar of Broad Windsor. It commenced,
fortunately, in French and English.

"Sacré"! What is this? Que fait-il
cet homme dans la société de Monsieur?
Sir! General! What have you done? N'y-
a-t-il pas des garçons, des commissionaires,
des interprêtes? What do you with this
Dimitri, this vagabond, this rascal, this"—--
here Missirie glided into Turkish.