on the spot myself, tell me at once of whom you are speaking,--who is
this prisoner?"

"How!" replied the maiden--"I do not understand you; would you deny
that he is in your custody? Was I not present when you bought the
hunting-set?"

"Who," cried Peregrine, quite beside himself, "who is this HE? For the
first time in my life I see _you_, lady, and who are YOU? who is this
HE?"

Dissolving in grief, the stranger threw herself at Peregrine's feet,
while the tears poured down in abundant streams from her eyes: "Be
humane, be merciful--give him back to me!"--and at the same time her
exclamations were mingled with those of Peregrine, "I shall lose my
senses! I shall go mad! I shall be frantic!"

On a sudden the maiden started up. She seemed much larger than before;
her eyes flashed fire, her lips quivered, and she exclaimed, with
furious gestures, "Ha, barbarian! no human heart dwells in you! You are
inexorable! You wish my death, my destruction! You won't give him up!
No--never, never! Wretched me!--Lost! lost!"

And with this she rushed out of the room. Peregrine heard her
clattering down the stairs, while her lamentations filled the whole
house, till at last a door below was flung to with violence.

Second Adventure.

The Flea-tamer.--Melancholy fate of the Princess Gamaheh, in
Famagusta.--Awkwardness of the Genius, Thetel, and remarkable
microscopic experiments and recreations.--The beautiful Hollandress,
and singular adventure of the young Mr. George Pepusch, a student of
Jena.

At this time there was a man in Frankfort, who practised the strangest
art possible. He was called the flea-tamer, from having succeeded--and
certainly not without much trouble and exertion--in educating these
little creatures, and teaching them to execute all sorts of pretty
tricks. You saw with the greatest astonishment a troop of fleas upon a
slab of highly-polished marble, who drew along little cannons,
ammunition-waggons, and baggage-carts, while others leaped along by
them with muskets in their arms, cartouch-boxes on their backs, and
sabres at their sides. At the word of command from the artist, they
performed the most difficult evolutions, and all seemed fuller of life
and mirth than if they had been real soldiers; for the marching
consisted in the neatest entrechats and capers, and the faces about,
right and left, in the most graceful pirouettes. The whole troop had a
wonderful a-plomb, and