rmstrong.
He might know a thing or two. He's the chap I told you about at
Christy's minstrels," continued Master Tom, warming up at the genial
reminiscence.

"Is that the French waiter down-stairs who helped bring you down from
London?" asked the doctor.

"Yes. I'm keeping him here as valet for the present. Armstrong
mentioned, I remember, that he knew him."

"Ring him up," said Tom.

Gustav appeared, all smiles and shrugs and compliments.

"_Eh bien_! my good gentleman," said he, "I am 'appy to see you well. I
was _mortifie_ for your mishap; but Mademoiselle--ah, Mademoiselle!"--
here he raised his fingers gracefully to his lips--"ze angel step in
where ze _pauvre garcon_ may not walk. You could not but be well with a
nurse so _charmante_. Ah, my friend, 'ow 'appy will be my good, kind
friend when he return!"

"You mean Mr Armstrong. Have you known him long?" asked Roger.

"_Pardieu_! Ten, fifteen, twenty year; I know not how long. He is
brother to me, your kind governor. He is to the _pauvre pere_ a son,
and to the _petite Francoise_--_ah! quelle est morte_!"

"What was the name of your father?" demanded Roger, his hand tightening
on Rosalind's as he spoke.

"Ah, Monsieur! a poor name; he is called like me, Gustav Callot."

The poor valet was thunderstruck by the sensation which his simple words
caused. Surely the English gentlemen and ladies are beautiful
listeners; no one ever paid him so much attention in his own country.

The American mayor took up the examination.

"I reckon," drawled he, "that young man did not go by the name of
Armstrong when you knew him."

"Ah, no! He has many names, my good, kind friend. It was Monsieur
Rogers when we knew his finest. Ah! he act the comedy beautiful! Then
when to came to cherish the _pauvre pere_ in Paris, and mourn with him
the death of _la petite Francoise_, he call himself by our poor name.
Ah! gentlemen, he was good to us. All he save at `L'Hotel Soult' he
share with us--and _apres_ from the sea he even send us pay."

"What was his ship, do you remember?"

"Shall I forget? He told us it had but one eye, and called itself
`Cyclops' Ah! _mes amis_," continued Gustav, delighted with his audience
and amazed at his own oratorical gifts, "he was much changed when I saw
him next. 'Tis six, seven, eight years since. The beard is all shorn,
the curl is cut off, the eye looks through a glass, and the
laugh--_helas_! gentlemen, the gay laugh of