travellers as legitimate game. Under
the present _regime_ they make half their living out of passport
irregularities."

"I suppose," I added, "I had better notify the police at Brussels."

"And be the laughing stock of Europe for your pains. No, Mortimer, lie
quiet here for a week or two, then take steamer through the
Mediterranean home. By the by, did Danneris advance you money for the
journey?"

"He gave me five hundred francs."

"Then you are not so badly off after all. Make your mind easy about
Mlle. Adele. She is hundreds of miles away by this."

"I wonder why she did not run away from the hotel the night I went to
the theatre."

"_Quien sabe?_ Let the dead past bury its dead."

* * * * *

Seventeen years have passed since the occurrence of the events I have
recorded, and never till yesterday have I seen or heard one word of
Adele de la Voix.

"Gwennie," said I to my dear little wife, on reaching my home in
southern Michigan after a visit on business to Detroit, "you remember
the heroine of my trip to Dressdorf castle, just before we were
married?"

"Surely," said the wife.

"Well, I saw Adele de la Voix yesterday."

"You didn't! When? Where?"

"At a store in Gratiot avenue. I was making a purchase, when a woman
entered--old-looking, homely, shabby; but there was no mistaking those
black eyes, nor the sniff of the left nostril. When she was gone, I
made some inquiries about her, and here is her business card:

"MME. JULIENNE, from Paris, reveals the past, the present, and the
future. Can be consulted on all affairs of love, business, or law,
and overcomes trouble of any kind. She brings together the
separated, causes speedy marriages, and sells infallible love
powders. Go and see for yourself. No humbug here.

"Rooms, etc."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Do? I don't know."

"I do."

"You wise woman, what is it?"

"Write the whole story for your favorite magazine. It is as interesting
as half the fiction one reads, and contains a good moral."

THE BATTALION.

A thousand strong we marched to battle;
The city roared around the host;
The tambours crashed their vaunting rattle;
The bugles screamed their joyous boast.

No thought had we to die asunder,
Companions sworn, a brother throng;
We looked to sweep through battle's thunder
In noble lines, a thousand strong.