a little.

"_Cospetto!_ Signor Dangerous," says he (for though he spoke French like
a Native he was by Birth an Italian, and sometimes swore in that
Language), "if all be true what you say,--and you do not look like a
Man who tells Lies,--you have led a strange Life. When a Boy, you were
nearly Hanged; and now at the _mezzo cammin_ of Life you have been on
the point of having your Limbs broken on a St. Andrew's Cross. However,
we must see what we can do for you. Strength, Valour, Experience, and
Discretion do not often go together; but I give you credit for
possessing a fair show of all Four. I suppose, now, that you are tired
of squatting at the Wicket of the Infernal Regions at the Opera House?"

I bowed in acknowledgment of his Eminence's compliments, and said that I
should be glad of any Employment.

"Well, well," continued his Eminence, "we will see. At present, as you
say you are a fair Scholar, my Secretary will find you some work in
copying Letters. And here, Signor Dangerous, take these ten Louis, and
furnish yourself with some more Clerkly Attire than your present trim.
It would never do for a Prince of the Church to have a Flavour of the
Opera Side-Scenes about his house."

Unless Rumour lied, there hung sometimes about his Eminence's sumptuous
hotel a Flavour, not alone of the Opera Side-Scenes, but of the
Ballet-Dancers' Tiring-room. However, let that pass. I took the ten
Louis with many Thanks, and six hours afterwards was strutting about in
a suit of Black, full trimmed, with a little short Cloak, for all the
world like a Notary's Clerk.

I had been in the Employ of his Eminence--who showed me daily more and
more favour--about a month, when all Paris was agog with the News that
the Monster Parricide and Hell-Hound (as they called him from the
Pulpit), Robert Francois Damiens, was to suffer the last Penalty of his
Crime. I know not what strange horrible fascination I yielded to, but I
could not resist the desire to see the End of the Red-faced Man. I went.
The Tragedy took place on the Place de Greve; but ere he came on to his
last Scene, Damiens had gone through other Woes well-nigh unutterable.
I speak not of his performing the _amende honorable_, bare-footed, in
his Shirt, a Halter round his Neck, and a lighted Taper of six pounds'
weight in his Hand, at the Church-door, confessing his Crime, and asking
Pardon of God, the King, and all Christian Men. Ah! no; he had suffered
more than this. Part of