counts ready for the commissary-general by to-morrow morning."

This speech having informed me the reason of the Major's presence there,
I resolved to wait no longer a mere spectator of their proceedings; so
dismounting from my position, I commenced a vigorous attack upon the door.

It was some time before I was heard; but at length the door was opened, and
I was accosted by an Englishman, who, in a strange compound of French and
English, asked, "What the devil I meant by all that uproar?" Determining
to startle my old friend the major, I replied, that "I was aide-de-camp to
General Picton, and had come down on very unpleasant business." By this
time the noise of the party within had completely subsided, and from a few
whispered sentences, and their thickened breathing, I perceived that they
were listening.

"May I ask, sir," continued I, "if Major Monsoon is here?"

"Yes," stammered out the ensign, for such he was.

"Sorry for it, for his sake," said I; "but my orders are peremptory."

A deep groan from within, and a muttered request to pass down the sherry,
nearly overcame my gravity; but I resumed:--

"If you will permit me, I will make the affair as short as possible. The
major, I presume, is here?"

So saying, I pushed forward into the room, where now a slight scuffling
noise and murmur of voices had succeeded silence. Brief as was the
interval of our colloquy, the scene within had, notwithstanding, undergone
considerable change. The English officers, hastily throwing off their
aldermanic robes, were busily arraying themselves in their uniforms, while
Monsoon himself, with a huge basin of water before him, was endeavoring to
wash the cork from his countenance in the corner of his tabard.

"Very hard upon me, all this; upon my life, so it is! Picton is always at
me, just as if we had not been school-fellows. The service is getting worse
every day. Regardez-moi, Curey, mong face est propre? Eh? There, thank you.
Good fellow the Curey is, but takes a deal of fluid. Oh, Burgomaster! I
fear it is all up with me! No more fun, no more jollification, no more
plunder--and how I did do it. Nothing like watching one's little chances!
'The poor is hated even by his neighbor.' Oui, Curey, it is Solomon says
that, and they must have had a heavy poor-rate in his day to make him say
so. Another glass of sherry!"

By this time I approached the back of the chair, and slapping him heartily
on the shoulder, called out,--

"