asiness, "that some untoward event has
occurred. Perhaps the negro and I had better retire, that you may question
Francis concerning that which hath befallen Mademoiselle Barberie, more at
your leisure."

The Alderman was recalled from a profound stupor, by this gentlemanlike
and considerate proposal. He bowed his acknowledgments, and permitted Mr.
Van Staats to quit the room; but when Euclid would have followed, he
signed to the negro to remain.

"I may have occasion to question thee farther," he said, in a voice that
had lost most of that compass and depth for which it was so remarkable.
"Stand there, sirrah, and be in readiness to answer. And now, Mr. Francis,
I desire to know why my niece declines taking the breakfast with myself
and my guest?"

"Mon Dieu, Monsieur, it is not possible y repondre Les sentiments des
demoiselles are nevair decides!"

"Go then, and say to her, that my sentiments are decided to curtail
certain bequests and devises, which have consulted her interests more than
strict justice to others of my blood--ay, and even of my name, might
dictate."

"Monsieur y reflechira. Mam'selle Alide be so young personne!"

"Old or young, my mind is made up; and so to your Cour des Fees, and tell
the lazy minx as much.--Thou hast ridden that innocent, thou scowling imp
of darkness!"

"Mais, pensez-y, je vous en prie, Monsieur. Mam'selle shall nevair se
sauver encore; jamais, je vous en repond."

"What is the fellow jabbering about?" exclaimed the Alderman, whose mouth
fell nearly to the degree that rendered the countenance of the valet so
singularly expressive of distress. "Where is my niece, Sir?--and what
means this allusion to her absence?"

"La fille de Monsieur de Barberie n'y est pas!" cried Francois, whose
heart was too full to utter more. The aged and affectionate domestic laid
his hand on his breast, with an air of acute suffering; and then,
remembering the presence of his superior, he turned, bowed with a manner
of profound condolence, struggled manfully with his own emotion, and
succeeded in getting out of the room with dignity and steadiness.

It is due to the character of Alderman Van Beverout, to say, that the blow
occasioned by the sudden death of the Flemish gelding, lost some of its
force, in consequence of so unlooked-for a report concerning the
inexplicable absence of his niece. Euclid was questioned, menaced, and
even anathematized, more than once, during the next ten minutes; bu