w to-night, or there is an end of all the grounds and degrees of
belief, opinion, and assent. I have credit," said I, "at the widow's, in
St Martin's Lane. Suppose we all meet there to-night, and get Harlow
there if we can?"

"That I can do," said Antony Harrison, "for I quartered myself to dine
with him to-day, as I saw him home, poor little fellow, last night. I
promise that he figures at the widow's to-night at nine o'clock."

So we separated. At nine every man of the party was in St Martin's Lane,
seated in the little back parlour; and Harrison was as good as his word,
for he brought Harlow with him. He ordered a sumptuous supper of mutton
kidneys, interspersed with sausages, and set to. At eleven o'clock
precisely, the eye of Harlow brightened, and putting his pipe down, he
commenced with a shrill voice--

"_Humphries told me_----"

"Ay," said we all, with one accord, "here it is--now we shall have
it--take care of it this time."

"What do you mean?" said Humpy Harlow, performing that feat which by the
illustrious Mr John Keeve is called "flaring up."

"Nothing," we replied, "nothing, but we are anxious to hear that story."

"I understand you," said our broken-backed friend. "I now recollect that
I did tell it once or so before in your company, but I shall not be a
butt any longer for you or anybody else."

"Don't be in a passion, Humpy," said Jack Ginger.

"Sir," replied Harlow, "I hate nicknames--it is a mark of a low mind to
use them--and as I see I am brought here only to be insulted, I shall
not trouble you any longer with my company."

Saying this, the little man seized his hat and umbrella, and strode out
of the room.

"His back is up," said Joe Macgillicuddy, "and there's no use of trying
to get it down. I am sorry he is gone, because I should have made him
pay for another round."

But he was gone, not to return again--and the story remains unknown.
Yea, as undiscoverable as the hieroglyphical writings of the ancient
Egyptians. It exists, to be sure, in the breast of Harlow; but there it
is buried, never to emerge into the light of day. It is lost to the
world--and means of recovering it, there, in my opinion, exist none.
The world must go on without it, and states and empires must continue to
flourish and to fade without the knowledge of what it was that Humphries
told Harlow. Such is the inevitable course of events.

For my part, I shall be satisfied with what I have done in drawing up
thi