to my father's property. I had formerly dressed
the peruke of an elderly gentleman who practised in the law, and with
whom I was a great favourite. Although five years had elapsed since I
first ran away from my father, I thought it very likely that he might be
still alive. I resolved to call at his house. When I knocked and asked
if he was at home, the girl who opened the door replied in the
affirmative; and I was shown into the same little study, littered with
papers, into which I formerly used to bring him his peruke.

"Your pleasure, sir?" inquired the old man, peering at me through his
spectacles.

"I wish," replied I, "to ask your opinion relative to a disputed
succession."

"What is the property?"

"That of Monsieur Maurepas, who died some short time since."

"What, have we another claimant? If so, as I am employed by one party
already, you must go elsewhere. I wish Francois would make his
appearance and claim his own, poor fellow."

Delighted to find that the old gentleman had still a regard for me, I
made no scruple of making myself known.

"I am Francois, sir," replied I.

The old gentlemen rose from his seat, and coming close to me, looked at
me earnestly in the face. After a minute's scrutiny--

"Well--I do believe you are; and pray, sir, where have you been all this
while?"

"That's what I cannot very well tell; but I have seen, and suffered
much."

"But that's what you must tell, if you wish to obtain your property--
that is to say, you must tell me. Don't be afraid, Francois: it is a
part of our profession to be confidants to strange secrets; and I think
there are many locked up in this breast of more importance than any
which you can disclose."

"But, sir, if my life is concerned."

"What then--your life will be safe. If I told all I knew, I could hang
half Marseilles. But laying my professional duty aside, I wish you
well; so now sit down, and let me hear your narrative."

I felt that I could confide in my old acquaintance, and I therefore
commenced a detail of my adventures. When I stated my being wrecked
near Marseilles, he interrupted me, laughing--

"And you were the holy abbess?"

"I was."

"Well, I thought I recollected your face, when I came with the rest of
the tom fools to pay my respects to you: and when it was whispered that
a man had personified the holy abbess, I said to myself, `that it was
either Francois or the devil,' but I never mentioned my suspicions.