was from the circumstance that his wife was there
quite alone and in probable distress at his long absence. At first
Colonel Kenton took a lively interest in this statement of his case, and
prompted the consul with various remarks and sub-statements; he was
grateful for the compassion generally shown him by the portiers, and he
strove with himself to give some account of the exterior and locality of
his mysterious hotel. But the fact was that he had not so much as looked
behind him when he quitted it, and knew nothing about its appearance;
and gradually the reiteration of the points of his misadventure to one
portier after another began to be as "a tale of little meaning, though
the words are strong." His personation of an American Herr in great
trouble of mind was an entire failure, except as illustrating the
national apathy of countenance when under the influence of strong
emotion. He ceased to take part in the consul's efforts in his behalf;
the whole abominable affair seemed as far beyond his forecast or
endeavor as some result of malign enchantment, and there was no such
thing as carrying off the tragedy with self-respect. Distressing as it
was, there could be no question but it was entirely ridiculous; he hung
his head with shame before the portiers at being a party to it; he no
longer felt like resenting Davis's amusement; he only wondered that he
could keep his face in relating the idiotic mischance. Each successive
failure to discover his lodging confirmed him in his humiliation and
despair. Very likely there was a way out of the difficulty, but he did
not know it. He became at last almost an indifferent spectator of the
consul's perseverance. He began to look back with incredulity at the
period of his life passed before entering the fatal fiacre that morning.
He received the final portier's rejection with something like a personal
derision.

"That's the last place I can think of," said the consul, wiping his brow
as they emerged from the court-yard, for he had grown very warm with
walking so much.

"Oh, all right," said the colonel languidly.

"But we won't give it up. Let's go in here and get some coffee, and
think it over a bit." They were near one of the principal cafes, which
was full of people smoking, and drinking the Viennese _melange_ out of
tumblers.

"By all means," assented Colonel Kenton with inconsequent courtliness,
"think it over. It's all that's left us."

Matters did not look so dark, q