uld have been a truly singular
exhibition, observed Junker, to have seen me, at that late hour, engaged
in a _tete-a-tete_ with a dead man decked out in a night-gown.

The poor wretch informed him, that he had enlisted as a soldier, but
that, having no great attachment to the profession, he had determined to
desert; that he had unfortunately entrusted his secret to a kind of
crimp, a fellow of no principle, who recommended him to a woman, in
whose house he was to remain concealed: that this woman had discovered
his retreat to the officers of police, &c.

Junker was extremely perplexed how to save the poor man. It was
impossible to retain him in his own house, and keep the affair a secret;
and to turn him out of doors, was to expose him to certain destruction.
He therefore resolved to conduct him out of the city, in order that he
might get into a foreign jurisdiction; but it was necessary to pass the
gates of the city, which were strictly guarded. To accomplish this
point, he dressed the man in some of his old clothes, covered him with a
cloak, and, at an early hour, set out for the country, with his
_protege_ behind him. On arriving at the city gate, where he was well
known, he said in a hurried tone, that he had been sent for to visit a
sick person who was dying in the suburbs. He was permitted to pass.
Having both got into the open fields, the deserter threw himself at the
feet of his deliverer, to whom he vowed eternal gratitude; and, after
receiving some pecuniary assistance, departed, offering up prayers for
his happiness.

Twelve years after, Junker, having occasion to go to Amsterdam, was
accosted on the Exchange by a man well-dressed and of the best
appearance, who, he had been informed, was one of the most respectable
merchants in that city. The merchant, in a polite manner, inquired
whether he was not Professor Junker of Halle; and, on being answered in
the affirmative, he requested, in an earnest manner, his company to
dinner. The Professor consented. Having reached the merchant's house,
he was shewn into an elegant apartment, where he found a beautiful wife,
and two fine healthy children: but he could scarcely suppress his
astonishment at meeting with so cordial a reception from a family with
whom, he thought he was entirely unacquainted.

After dinner, the merchant, taking him into his counting-room, said,
"You do not recollect me?"--"Not at all."--"But I well recollect you;
and never shall your feature