drollest dogs I ever heard of. Well, it so happened that it was upon one of their nights of performing that I found myself, with Mr. Burke, a spectator of their proceedings ; I had fallen into an easy slumber, when a dreadful row in the box lobby roused me from my dream, and the loud cry of 4 Turn him out ! ’ 4 Pitch him over ! 9 4 Beat his brains out ! ’ and other humane proposals of the like nature, effectually restored me to consciousness. I rushed out of the box into the lobby, and there, to my astonish- ment, in the midst of a considerable crowd, behind my friend, Mr. Burke, belaboring the box-keeper with all his might with a cotton umbrella of rather unpleasant proportions, accompany- ing each blow with an exclamation of 4 Well, are they Connaught- men, now, you rascal — eh ?— -are they all west of Athlone, tell me that, now ? I wonder what's preventing me beating the soul out of ye.’ After obtaining a short cessation of hostilities, and restoring poor Sharkey to his legs, much more dead than alive from pure fright, I learned, at last, the teterrima causa belli . Mr. Burke, it seems, had entered into conversation with Sharkey, the box-keeper, as to all the particulars of the theatre, and the present piece, but especially as to the real and authentic history of the Indians, whose language her emarked, in many respects, to resemble Irish. Poor Sharkey, whose benefit night was ap- proaching, thought he might secure a friend for life by impart- ing to him an important state secret ; and when therefore, pressed rather closely as to the 4 savages’ whereabout,’ resolved to try a bold stroke, and trust his unknown interrogator. 4 And so you don’t really know where they come from, nor can’t guess?’ ‘Maybe, Peru,’ said Mr. Burke, innocently. 4 Try again, sir,’ said Sharkey, with a knowing grin. 4 Is it Behring’s, Straits ? ’ said Mr. Burke. 4 What do you think of Galway, sir ? 9 said Sharkey, with a leer intended to cement a friendship for life. The words were no sooner out of his lips, than Burke, who immediately took them as a piece of direct insolence to himself and his country, felled him to the earth, and was in the act of continuing the discipline when I arrived on the field of battle.” CHAPTER XXII. A NIGHT AT HOWTH. 44 And you must really leave us so soon,” said Tom, as we issued forth into the street ; 44 why, I was just planning a whole week’s adventure for you. Town is so full of all kinds of idle A NIGHT AT IIOWTH. l93 people, I think I could manage to make your time pass pleas- antly enough.” “ Of that,” I replied, “ I have little doubt, but, for the reasons I have just mentioned, it is absolutely necessary that I should not lose a moment ; and after arranging a few things here, I shall start to-morrow by the earliest packet, and hasten up to London at once.” “By Jupiter,” said Tom, “how lucky. I just remember something which comes admirably a propos . You are going to Paris — is it not so ? ” “ Yes, direct to Paris.” “ Nothing could be better. There is a particularly nice person, a great friend of mine — Mrs. Bingham — waiting for several days in hopes of a chaperon to take care of herself and daughter — a lovely girl, only nineteen, you wretch — to London, en route to the Continent ; the mamma a delightful woman, and a widow, with a very satisfactory jointure — you understand ; but the daughter, a regular, downright beauty, and a ward in Chan eery, with how many thousand pounds I am afraid to trust myself to say. You must know, then, they are the Binghams of , upon my soul, I forget where, but highly respectable.” “ I regret I have not the pleasure of their acquaintance, and the more because I shall not be able to make it now.” “ As why ? ” said Tom, gravely. “ Because, in the first place, I am so confoundedly pressed for time, that I could not possibly delay under any contingency that might arise ; and your fair friends are, doubtless, not too eagerly determined upon travelling night and day till they reach Paris. Secondly, to speak candidly, with my present hopes and fears weighing upon my mind, I shall not be the most agreeable travelling companion to two ladies with such pretensions as you speak of ; and, thirdly ” “ Confound your thirdly. I suppose we shall havesixteenthly, like a Presbyterian minister’s sermon, if I let you go on. Why, they’ll not delay you one hour. Mrs. Bingham, man, cares as little for the road as yourself ; and as for your petits soins, I suppose if you get the fair ladies through the Custom House, and see them safe in a London hotel, it is all that will be re- quired at your hands.” “ Notwithstanding all you say, I see the downright impossi- bility of my taking such a charge at this moment, when my own affairs require all the little attention I can bestow ; and when, were I once involved with your fair friends, it might be com- pletely out of my power to prosecute my own plans.” As I said this, we reached the door of a handsome-looking *3 ' 194 BARRY LORREQUER. house in Kildare Street, upon which Tom left my arm, and, in forming me that he desired to drop a card, knocked loudly. “ Is Mrs. Bingham at home ? ” said he, as the servant opened the door. “ No, sir, she’s out in the carriage.” “ Well, you see, Harry, your ill-luck befriends you ; for I was resolved on presenting you to my friends, and leaving the rest to its merits.” “ I can safely assure you that I should not have gone up stairs,” said I. “Little as I know of myself, there is one point of my character I have never been deceived in, the fatal facility by which every new incident or adventure can turn me from following up my best matured and longest digested plans ; and as I feel this weakness and cannot correct it, the next best thing I can do is to fly the causes.” “Upon my soul,” said Tom, “you have become quite a phi- losopher since we met. There is an old adage which says, ‘ No king is ever thoroughly gracious if he has not passed a year or two in dethronement : ’ so I believe your regular lady-killer — yourself, for instance — becomes a very quiet animal for being occasionally jilted. But now, as you have some commissions to do, pray get done with them as fast as possible, and let us meet at dinner. Where do you dine to-day ? ” “ Why, upon that point, I am at your service completely.” “ Well, then, I have got a plan which I think will suit you. You said you wished to go by Holyhead, for fear of delay ; so we’ll drive down at six o’clock to Skinner’s, and dine with him on board the packet at Howth. Bring your luggage with you, and it will save you a vast deal of fuss and trouble in the morn- ing.” Nothing could be better management for me than this, so I accordingly promised acquiescence ; and having appointed a rendezvous for six o’clock, bade O’Flaherty good-by, inwardly rejoicing that my plans were so far forwarded, and that I was not to be embarrassed with either Mrs. Bingham or her daugh- ter, for whose acquaintance or society I had no peculiar ambition. My commissions, though not very numerous, occupied the few hours which remained, and it was already a few minutes past six o’clock when I took my stand under the piazza of the Post-office to wait for O’Flaherty. I had not long to do so, for immediately after I had reached the spot, he arrived in an open barouche and four posters, with three other young men, to whom he severally introduced me, but whose names I have totally for- gotten ; I only remember that two of the party were military men, then quartered in town. A NIGHT A T IIO WTH 195 When I had taken my seat, I could not help whispering to Tom, that although his friend Skinner might be “ bon ” for a visitation for two at his dinner, yet, as we were now so strong a party, it might be as well to dine at the hotel. “ Oh,”~said he, “ I have arranged all that ; I have sent him a special messenger two hours since, and so make your mind easy — we shall not be disappointed, nor he short-taken.” Our drive, although a long one, passed quickly over, and be- fore we had reached our destination, I had become tolerably intimate with all the party, who were evidently picked men, selected by O’Flaherty for a pleasant evening. We drove along the pier to the wharf, where the steamer lay, and were received at once by Tom’s friend with all the warm welcome and hospitality of a sailor, united with the address and polish of a very finished gentleman. As we descended the com- panion-ladder to the cabin, my mind became speedily divested of any fears I might have indulged in as to the want of prepara- tion of our entertainer. The table was covered with handsome plate and cut glass, while the side-tables glittered with a mag- nificent dessert, and two large wine-coolers presented an array of champagne necks shining with their leaden cravats that would have tempted an anchorite. I remember very little else of that evening than the coup d' ceil I have mentioned ; besides, were my memory more retentive, I might scruple to trespass farther on my reader’s patience, by the detail of those pleasures which, like love-letters, however agreeable to the parties immediately concerned, are very uned- ifying to all others. I do remember, certainly, that good stories and capital songs succeeded each other with a rapidity only to be equalled by the popping of corks ; and have also a very vague and indistinct recollection of a dance round the table, evidently to finish a chorus, but which, it appears, finished me too, for I saw no more that night. How many have commemorated the waking sensations of their fellow-men, after a night’s debauch ! yet, at the same time, I am not aware of any one having perfectly conveyed even a passing likeness to the mingled throng of sensations which crowd one’s brain on such an occasion. The doubt of what has passed, by degrees yielding to the half consciousness of the truth, the feel- ing of shame, inseparable, except to the habitually hard-goer, from the events thus dimly pictured, the racking headache and intense thirst, with the horror of the potation recently indulged in ; the recurring sense of the fun or drollery of a story or an incident which provokes us again to laugh despite the jarring of @ur brain from the shaking, — all this, and more, most men have 196 HARRY LORREQUER. felt, and happy are they when their waking thoughts are limited to such, at times like these. The matter becomes considerably worse, when the following morning calls for some considerable exertion, for which, even in your best and calmest moments, you barely find yourself equal. It is truly unpleasant, on rubbing your eyes and opening your ears, to discover that the great bell is ringing the half-hour be- fore your quarterly examination at college, while Locke, Lloyd, and Lucian are dancing a reel through your brain, little short of madness ; scarcely less agreeable is it to learn that your friend Captain Wildfire is at the door in his cab, to accompany you to the Phoenix, to stand within twelve paces of a cool gentleman who has been sitting with his arm in cold water for the last half- hour, that he may pick you out “ artist-like.” There are, besides these, innumerable situations in which our preparations of the night would appear as none of the wisest ; but I prefer going at once to my own, which, although considerably inferior in diffi- culty, was not without its own desagremens. When I awoke, therefore, on board the Firefly , the morning after our dinner-party, I was perfectly unable, by any mental process within my reach, to discover where I was. On shipboard I felt I must be — the narrow berth, the gilded and panelled cabin which met my eye through my half-open curtains, and that pecul- iar swelling motion inseparable from a vessel in the water, all satisfied me of this fact. I looked about me, but could see no one to give me the least idea of my position. Could it be that we were on our way out to Corfu, and that I had been ill for some time past ? But this cabin had little resemblance to a transport ; perhaps it might be a frigate, I knew not. Then again, were we sailing, or at anchor ? for the ship was nearly motionless ; at this instant a tremendous noise like thunder crashed through my head, and for a moment I expected we had exploded, and would be all blown up ; but an instant after I discovered it must be the escape of the steam, and that I was on board a packet-ship. Here, then, was some clue to my situation, and one which would prob- ably have elicited all in due season ; but just at this moment a voice on deck saved me from any further calculations. Two persons were conversing whose voices were not altogether un- known to me, but why I knew not. “ Then, captain, I suppose you consider this as an excellent passage ? ” “Yes, of course I do,” replied the captain, “it’s only five hours since we left Howth, and now? you see, we are nearly in ; A NIGHT AT HO WTH. 197 if we have this run of the tide we shall reach the Head before twelve o’clock.” “ Ha, ha ! ” said I to myself, “ now I begin to learn something. So we have crossed the channel while I was sleeping, not the ieast agreeable thing for a man to hear who suffers martyrdom from sea-sickness. But let me listen again.” “ And that large mountain there, is that Snowdon ? ” “ No ; you cannot see Snowdon ; there is too much mist about it; that mountain is Capel Carrig ! and there that bold bluff to the eastward, that is Penmen Mawr.” “ Come, there is no time to be lost,” thought I ; so springing out of my berth, accoutred as I was, in merely trousers and slip- pers, with a red handkerchief, fastened nightcap fashion round my head, I took my way through the cabin. My first thought on getting upon my legs was, how tremen- dously the vessel pitched, which I had not remarked while in my berth, but now I could scarce keep myself from falling at every step. I was just about to call the steward, when I again heard the voices on deck. “ You have but few passengers this trip.” “ I think only yourself and a Captain Lorrequer,” replied the captain, “ who, by the bye, is losing all this fine coast, which is certainly a great pity.” “ He shall not do so much longer,” thought I ; “for as I find that there are no other passengers, I’ll make my toilet on deck, and enjoy the view besides.” With this determination I as- cended slowly and cautiously the companion-ladder, and stepped out upon the deck ; but scarcely had I done so, when a roar of the loudest laughter made me turn my head towards the poop, and there, to my horror of horrors, I beheld Tom O’Flaherty seated between two ladies, whose most vociferous mirth I soon perceived was elicited at my expense. All the party of the preceding night were also there, and as I turned from their grinning faces to the land, I saw, to my shame and confusion, that we were still lying beside the pier at Howth ; while the bandboxes, trunks, and imperials of new ar- rivals were incessantly pouring in, as travelling carriages kept driving up to the place of embarkation. I stood perfectly as- tounded and bewildered — shame for my ridiculous costume would have made me fly at any other time — but there I remained to be laughed at, patiently, while that villain O’Flaherty, leading me passively forward, introduced me to his friends — “ Mrs. Bingham, Mr. Lorrequer; Mr. Lorrequer, Miss Bingham. Don’t be prepossessed against him, ladies, for when not in Jove? and 198 HARRY LORREQUER. properly dressed, he is a marvellously well-looking young gen- tleman ; and as ” What the remainder of the sentence might be, I knew not, for I rushed down into the cabin, and locking the door, never opened it till I could perceive from the stern windows that we were really off on our way to England, and recognized once more the laughing face of O’Flaherty, who, as he waved his hat to his friends from the pier, reminded them “ that they were under the care and protection of his friend Lorrequer, who, he trusted, would condescend to increase his wearing apparel under the circumstances.” CHAPTER XXIII. THE JOURNEY. When I did at last venture upon the deck, it was with a cos- tume studiously accurate, and as much of manner as I could possibly muster, to endeavor at once to erase the unfortunate impression of my first appearance ; this, however, was not destined to be a perfectly successful manoeuvre, and I was obliged, after a few minutes, to join the laugh, which I found could not be re- pressed, at my expense. One good result certainly followed from all this. I became almost immediately on intimate terms with Mrs. Bingham and her daughter, and much of the awk- wardness in my position as their chaperon, which, bon gre', mal gre \ I was destined to be, was at once got over. Mrs. Bingham herself was of that style of widow which comes under the “ fat, fair, and forty ” category, with a never-ceasing flow of high, almost boisterous spirits — an excellent temper, good health — and a well-stocked purse. Life to her was like a game of her favorite “ speculation.” When she believed the “ company hon- est,” and knew her cards trumps, she was tolerably easy for the result. She liked Kingstown — she liked whist — she liked the mili- tary—she liked “ the junior bar,” of which she knew a good num- ber— she had a well-furnished house in Kildare Street — and a well-cushioned pew in St. Anne’s — she was a favorite at the Castle — and Dr. Labatt “ knew her constitution.” Why, with all these advantages, she should ever have thought of leaving the “ happy valley ” of her native city, it was somewhat hard to guess. Was it that thoughts of matrimony, which the Conti- nent held out more prospect for, had invaded the fair widow’s heart ? was it that the altered condition to which politics had greatly reduced Dublin had effected this change of opinion ? or THE JOURNEY. m was it like that indescribable longing for the unknown something, which we read of in the pathetic history of the fair lady cele- brated, I believe, by Petrarch ? But I quote from memory : — “ Mrs. Gill is very ill, Nothing can improve her, But to see the Tuileries, And waddle through the Louvre.” None of these, I believe, however gocd and valid reasons in themselves, were the moving powers upon the present occasion ; the all-sufficient one being that Mrs. Bingham had a daugh- ter. Now Miss Bingham was Dublin too — but Dublin of a later edition — and a finer, more hot-pressed copy than her mamma. She had been educated at Mrs. Somebody’s seminary in Mountjoy Square — had been taught to dance by Montague — and had learned French from a Swiss governess — with a number of similar advantages — a very pretty figure — dark eyes — long eyelashes and a dimple — and last, but of course least, the deserved reputation of a large fortune. She had made a most successful debut in the Dublin world, where she was much admired and flattered, and which soon suggested to her quick mind, as it has often done in similar cases to a young provincial debutante , not to waste her attractions upon the minor thea- tres, but at once to appear upon the “ great boards ; ” so far evidencing a higher flight of imagination and enterprise than is usually found among the class of her early associates, who may be characterized as that school of young ladies, who admire “ The Corsair ” and Kingstown, and say “ Ah, don’t ! ” She possessed much more common sense than her mamma, and promised, under proper advantages, to become speedily quite sufficiently acquainted with the world and its habitudes. In the mean while, I perceived that she ran a very considerable risk of being carried off by some mustachioed Pole, with a name like a sneeze, who might pretend to enjoy access to the fashion* able circles of the Continent. Very little study of my two friends enabled me to see thus much ; and very little “ usage ” sufficed to render me speedily intimate with both ; the easy good-nature of the mamma, who had a very methodistical appreciation of what the “ connection ” call “ creature comforts,” amused me much, and opened one ready path to her good graces by the opportunity afforded of getting up a luncheon of veal cutlets and London porter, of which I partook, not a little to the evident loss of the fair daughter’s esteem. While, therefore, I made the tour of the steward’s cell in search •200 HARRY LORREQUER. of Harvey’s sauce, I brushed up my memory of “ The Corsair ” and “ Childe Harold,” and alternately discussed Stilton and Southey, Shelley and lobsters, Haynes Bayley and ham. The day happened to be particularly calm and delightful, so that we never left the deck : and the six hours which brought us from land to land quickly passed over in this manner ; and ere we reached “ the Head,” I had become the warm friend and legal adviser of the mother ; and with the daughter I was installed as chief confidant of all her griefs and sorrows, both of which appointments cost me a solemn promise to take care of them till their arrival in Paris, where they had many friends and acquaintances awaiting them. Here, then, as usual, was the fatal facility with which I gave myself up to any one who took the trouble to influence me ! One thing, never- theless, I was determined on, to let no circumstances defer my arrival at Paris a day later than was possible : therefore, though my office as chaperon might engage me on the road, it should not interfere with the object before me. Had my mind not been so completely engaged with my own immediate prospects, when hope, suddenly and unexpectedly revived, had become so tinged with fears and doubts as to be almost torture, I must have been much amused with my present position, as I found myself seated with my two fair friends, rolling along through Wales in their comfortable travelling carriage — giving all the orders at the different hotels — seeing after the luggage — and acting en maitre in every respect. The good widow enjoyed particularly the difficulty which my precise position with regard to her and her daughter threw the different innkeepers on the road into, sometimes supposing me to be her husband, sometimes her son, and once her son-in-law , which very alarming conjecture brought a crimson tinge to the fair daughter’s cheek, an expression which, in my ignorance, I thought looked very like an inclination to faint in my arms. At length we reached London, and having been there safely installed at Mivart’s, I sallied forth to present my letter to the Horse Guards, and obtain our passport for the Continent. “ Number nine, Poland Street, sir,” said the waiter, as I in- quired the address of the French Consul. Having discovered that my interview with the commander-in-chief was appointed for four o’clock, I determined to lose no time, but make every possible arrangement for leaving London in the morning. A cab quietly conveyed me to the door of the Consul, around which stood several other vehicles of every shape and fashion, while in the doorway were to be seen numbers of people, throng- ing and pressing, like the Opera pit on a full night. Into the THE JOURNEY. 20 1 midst of this assemblage I soon thrust myself, and, borne upon the current, at length reached a small back parlor, filled also with people ; a door opening into another small room in the front showed a similar mob there, with the addition of a small elderly man, in a bag-wig and spectacles, very much begrimed with snuff, and speaking in a very choleric tone to the various applicants for passports, who, totally ignorant of French, insisted upon in- terlarding their demands with an occasional stray phrase, mak- ing a kind of tesselated pavement of tongues, which would have shamed Babel. Nearest to the table at which the functionary sat stood a mustachioed gentleman, in a blue frock and white trousers, a white hat jauntily set upon one side of his head, and primrose gloves. He cast a momentary glance of a very under- valuing import upon the crowd around him, and then, turning to the Consul, said in a very soprano tone : — “ Passport, monsieur ! ” “ Que voulez-vous que je fasse,” replied the old Frenchman, gruffly. “ Je suis — j’ai — that is, donnez-moi passport.” “ Where do you go ? ” replied the Consul. “ Calai.” “ Comment, diable, speak Inglis, an I understan you as bes- ser. Your name ? ” “ Lorraine Snaggs, gentilhomme.” “ What age have you ? — how old ? ” “ Twenty-two.” “ C’est ga,” said the old Consul, flinging the passport across the table with the air of a man who thoroughly comprehended the applicant’s pretension to the designation of gentilhomme Anglais. As I followed the worthy representative of Seven Dials with my eye, another person had neared the table. She was a rather pretty young woman, with blue eyes, and brown hair braided quietly on her forehead, and wearing a plain close bonnet of a very coquettish appearance. “ Will you be seated, mam’selle ? ” said the polite old French- man, who had hitherto been more like a bear than a human being. “ Ou allez-vous done ? where to, ma ch&re ? ” “ To Paris, sir.” “ By Calais ? ” “ No, sir ; by Boulogne.” “C’est bon ; quel age avez-vous. What old, ma belle ?H “ Nineteen, sir, in June.” “ And are you alone, quite, eh?r “ No, sir, my little girl.” 2o 2 HARRY LORREQUER. “ Ah ! your leetel girl — c’est fort bien — je m’apergois ; and your name ? ” 44 Fanny Linwood, sir.’’ 44 C’est fini, ma chere, — Mademoiselle Fanny Linwood,” said the old man, as he wrote down the name. 44 Oh, sir, I beg your pardon, but you have put me down Mad- emoiselle, and — and — you see, sir, I have my little girl.” 44 Ah! c’est e'gal, mam’selle, they don’t mind these things in France. Au plaisir de vous voir — adieu.” 44 They don’t mind these things in France,” said I to myself, repeating the old Consul’s phrase, which I could not help feel- ing as a whole chapter on his nation. My business was soon settled, for I spoke nothing but English — very little knowledge of the world teaching me that when we have any favor, however slight, to ask, it is always good policy to make the demand by propitiating the self-esteem of the granter — if, happily, there be an opportunity for so doing. When I returned to Mivart’s, I found a written answer to my letter of the morning, stating that his lordship of the Horse Guards was leaving town that afternoon, but would not delay my departure for the Continent, to visit which a four months’ leave was granted me, with a recommendation to study at Wei- mar. The next day brought us to Dover, in time to stroll about the cliffs during the evening, when I again talked sentiment with the daughter till very late. The mamma herself was too tired to come out, so that we had our walk quite alone. It is strange enough how quickly this travelling together has shaken us into intimacy. Isa- bella says she feels as if I were her brother ; and I began to think myself she is not exactly like a sister. She has a marvellously pretty foot and ankle. The climbing of cliffs is a very dangerous pastime. How true the French adage — 44 C’est plus facile de glisser sur le gazon que sur la glace.” But still nothing can come of it ; for if Lady Jane be not false, I must consider myself an engaged man. 44 Well, but I hope,” said I, rousing myself from a reverie of some minutes, and inadvertently pressing the arm which leaned upon me, 44 your mamma will not be alarmed at our long ab- sence ? ” 44 Oh ! not in the least ; for she knows I’m with you.” And here I felt a return of the pressure — perhaps also inad- vertently given, but which, whether or not, effectually set all my reasonings and calculations astray ; and we returned to the ho- tel silent on both sides. CALAIS : 203 The appearance of “ mamma ” beside the hissing tea-urn, brought us both back to ourselves ; and after an hour’s chatting we said “Good-night,” to start on the morrow for the Con- tinent. CHAPTER XXIV. CALAIS. It was upon a lovely evening in autumn, as the Dover steam- boat rounded the wooden pier at Calais, amid a fleet of small boats filled with eager and anxious faces, soliciting, in every species of bad English and patois French, the attention and pat- ronage of the passengers. “ Hotel des Bains, milor.” “ Hotel d’Angleterre,” said another, in a voice of the most im- posing superiority. “ (Test superbe — pretty well.” “ Hotel du Nord, votre Excellence — remise de poste and ‘ de- lays 9 (query, relays) at all hours.” “ Commissionnaire, miladi,” sang out a small shrill treble from the midst of a crowded cock-boat, nearly swamped beneath our paddle-wheel. What a scene of bustle, confusion, and excitement does the deck of a steamer present upon such an occasion. Every one is running hither or thither. Sauve que peut is now the watch- word ; and friendships that promised a lifelong endurance only half an hour ago, find here a speedy dissolution. The lady who slept all night upon deck, enveloped in the folds of your Astra- khan cloak, scarcely deigns an acknowledgment of you, as she adjusts her ringlets before the looking-glass over the stove in the cabin. The polite gentleman, that would have flown for a reticule or a smelling-bottle upon the high seas, won’t leave his luggage in the harbor ; and the gallantry and devotion that stood the test of half a gale of wind and a wet jacket is not proof when the safety of a carpet-bag or the security of a “ Mack- intosh ” is concerned. And thus, here, as elsewhere, is prosperity the touchstone of good feeling. All the various disguises that have been assumed, per viaggio , are here immediately abandoned, and, stripped of the travelling costume of urbanity and courtesy, which they put on for the voyage, they stand forth in all the unblushing front of selfishness and self-interest. Some tender scenes yet find their place amid the ruins of this 204 HARRY LORREQUER. chaotic state. Here may be seen a careful mother adjusting in- numerable shawls and handkerchiefs round the throat of a sea-green young lady with a cough ; her maid, at the same in stant, taking a tender farewell of the steward in the after-cabin. Here, is a very red-faced and hot individual, with punch-col- ored breeches and gaiters, disputing “ one brandy too much ” in his bill, and vowing that the company shall hear of it when he returns to England. There, a tall, elderly woman, with a Scotch-gray eye, and a sharp cheek-bone, is depositing within her muff various seizable articles, that until now had been ly- ing quietly in her trunk. Yonder, that raw-looking young gen- tleman, with the crumpled frock-coat, and loose cravat, and sea- sick visage, is asking every one “ if they think he may land with- out a passport.” You scarcely recognize him for the cigar-smok- ing dandy of yesterday, that talked as if he had lived half his life on the Continent. While there, a rather pretty girl is look- ing intently at some object in the blue water, beside the rudder post. You are surprised you cannot make it out; but then, she has the advantage of you, for the tall, well-looking man, with the knowing whiskers, is evidently whispering something in her ear. “ Steward, this is not my trunk ; mine was a leather ” “ All the ‘ leathers 9 are gone in the first boat, sir0” “ Most scandalous way of doing business.” “ Trouble you for two-and-sixpence, sir.” “ There’s Matilda coughing again,” says a thin, shrewish wom- an, with a kind of triumphant scowl at her better half ; “ but you would have her wear that thin shawl ! ” “ Whatever may be the fault of the shawl, I fancy no one will reproach her ankles for thinness,” murmurs a young Guardsman, as he peeps up the companion-ladder. Amid all the Babel of tongues and uproar of voices, the thorough bass of the escape steam keeps up its infernal thunders, till the very brain reels, and, sick as you have been of the voy- age, you half wish yourself once more at sea, if only to have a moment of peace and tranquillity. Numbers now throng the deck who have never made their appearance before. Pale, jaundiced, and crumpled, they have all the sea-sick look and haggard cheek of the real martyr — all except one, a stout, swarthy, brown-vrsaged man, of about forty, with a frame of iron, and a voice like the fourth string of a vio- loncello. You wonder why he should have taken to his bed : learn, then, that he is His Majesty’s courier from the Foreign Office, with despatches to Constantinople, and that, as he is not destined to lie down in a bed for the next fourteen days, he is CALAIS. 205 glad even of the narrow resemblance to one he finds in the berth of a steamboat. At length you are on shore, and marched off in a long string, like a gang of convicts, to the Bureau de l’Oct- roi ; and here is begun an examination of the luggage, which promises, from its minuteness, to last for the three months you destined to spend in Switzerland. At the end of an hour you discover that the soi-disant commissionnaire will transact all this affair for a few francs ; and, after a tiresome wait in a filthy room, jostled, elbowed, and trampled upon by boors with sabots, you adjourn to your inn, and begin to feel that you are not in England. Our little party had but few of the miseries here recounted to contend with. My savoir faire , with all modesty be it spoken, had been long schooled in the art and practice of travelling ; and while our less experienced fellow-travellers were deep in the novel mysteries of cotton stockings and petticoats, most os- tentatiously displayed upon every table of the Bureau, we were comfortably seated in the handsome saloon of the Hotel du Nord, looking out upon a pretty grass-plot, surrounded with orange- trees, and displaying in the middle a fountain about the size of a walking-stick. “ Now, Mr. Lorrequer,” said Mrs. Bingham, as she seated herself by the open window, “ never forget how totally depen- dent we are upon your kind offices. Isabella has discovered already that the French of Mountjoy Square, however intelligi- ble in that neighborhood, and even as far as Mount Street, is Coptic and Sanscrit here ; and, as for myself, I intend to affect deaf-and-dumbness till I reach Paris, where I hear every one can speak English a little.” “ Now, then, to begin my functions,” said I, as I rang for the waiter, and ran over in my mind rapidly how many invaluable hints for my new position my present trip might afford me, “ al- ways provided ” (as the lawyers say), that Lady Jane Callonby might feel herself tempted to become my travelling companion, in which case But, confound it, how I am castle-building again ! Meanwhile, Mrs. Bingham is looking as hungry and famished as though she would eat the waiter. “ Ha ! this is the carte” “ Now, then, to order supper.” “ Cotelettes d’agneau.” “ Mayonnaise de homard.” “ Perdreaux rouges aux truffes — mark that, aux truffes.” “ Gelee au maraschino.” “ And the wine, sir,” said the waiter, with a look of approval at my selection. “ Champagne — no other wine, sir ? ” 2o6 HARRY LORREQUER. “ No,” said I, “ champagne only. Frappe, of course,” I added. And the waiter departed with a bow that would have graced St. James’s. As long as our immaterial and better part shall be doomed to keep company with its fleshy tabernacle, with all its attendant miseries of gout and indigestion, how much of our enjoyment in this world is dependent upon the mere accessory circumstances by which the business of life is carried on and maintained, and to despise which is neither good policy nor sound philosophy. In this conclusion, a somewhat long experience of the life of a traveller has fully established me. And nowhere does it press more forcibly upon the mind than when first arrived in a conti- nental inn, after leaving the best hotels of England still fresh in your memory. I do not for a moment dispute the very great superiority in comfort of the latter, by which I would be under- stood to mean all those resemblances to one’s own home which an English hotel so eminently possesses, and every other one so markedly wants ; but 1 mean that in contrivances to elevate the spirit, cheer the jaded and tired wayfarer by objects which, however they may appeal to the mere senses, seem, at least, but little sensual, give me a foreign inn ; let me have a large, spacious saloon, with its lofty walls, and its airy, large-paned windows (I shall not ojbject if the cornices and mouldings be gilded, because such is usually the case) — let the sun and heat of a summer’s day come tempered through the deep lattices of a well-fitting “jalousie,” bearing upon them the rich incense of a fragrant orange-tree in blossom — and the sparkling drops of a neighboring fountain, the gentle plash of which is faintly audi- ble amid the hum of the drone-bee — let such be the agremens without — while within, let the more substantial joys of the table await, in such guise as only a French cuisine can present them — give me these, I say, and I shall never sigh for the far-famed and long-deplored comforts of a box in a coffee-room, like a pew in a parish church, though certainly not so well cushioned, and fully as dull, with a hot waiter and a cold beefsteak — the only thing higher than your game being your bill, and the only thing less drinkable than your port being the porter. With such exotic notions, imagine, my dear reader, whether or not I felt happy as I found myself seated between my two fair friends doing the honors of a little supper, and assisting the exhilaration of our champagne by such efforts of wit as, under favorable circumstances like these, are ever successful — and which, being like the foaming liquid which washes them down, to be swallowed without waiting, are ever esteemed good, from the excitement that results, and never seriously canvassed for CALAIS. 207 any more sterling merit. Nothing ever makes a man so agree* able as the belief that he is so ; and certainly my fair compan- ions appeared to have the most excellent idea of my powers in that respect ; and I fancy that I made more bons mots , hit off more epigrams, and invented more choice incidents on that happy evening, than, if now remembered, would suffice to pay my tailor’s bill, when collated for Bentley’s Miscellany , and illustrated by Cruikshank. Alas ! that, like the good liquor that seasoned them, both are gone by, and I am left but to chronicle the mem- ory of the fun in dullness, and counterfeit the effervescence of* the grape-juice by soda-water. One thing, however, is certain — we formed a most agreeable party; and if a feeling of gloom ever momentarily shot through my mind, it was, that evenings like these came so rarely in this work-a-day world, that each such should be looked on as our last. 