rsuade
them that you were not Lucien Buonaparte, or the iron mask, or something
of that sort, if they took it into their heads."

Mr. O'Leary was as good as his word. In a species of French, that I'd
venture to say would be perfectly intelligible in Mullingar, he contrived
to explain to the maire that I was neither a runaway nor a swindler, but
a very old friend of his, and consequently sans reproche. The official
was now as profuse of his civilities as he had before been of his
suspicions, and most hospitably pressed us to stay for breakfast. This,
for many reasons, I was obliged to decline--not the least of which was,
my impatience to get out of my present costume. We accordingly procured a
carriage, and I returned to the hotel, screened from the gaze but still
accompanied by the shouts of the mob, who evidently took a most lively
interest in the entire proceeding.

I lost no time in changing my costume, and was about to descend
to the saloon, when the master of the house came to inform me that
Mrs. Bingham's courier had arrived with the carriage, and that she
expected us at Amiens as soon as possible.

"That is all right. Now, Mr. O'Leary, I must pray you to forgive
all the liberty I have taken with you, and also permit me to defer the
explanation of many circumstances which seem at present strange, till--"

"Till sine die, if the story be a long one, my dear sir--there's nothing
I hate so much, except cold punch."

"You are going to Paris," said I; "is it not so?"

"Yes, I'm thinking of it. I was up at Trolhatten, in Norway, three weeks
ago, and I was obliged to leave it hastily, for I've an appointment with
a friend in Geneva."

"Then how do you travel?"

"On foot, just as you see, except that I've a tobacco bag up stairs, and
an umbrella."

"Light equipment, certainly; but you must allow me to give you a set down
as far as Amiens, and also to present you to my friends there."

To this Mr. O'Leary made no objection; and as Miss Bingham could not bear
any delay, in her anxiety to join her mother, we set out at once--the
only thing to mar my full enjoyment at the moment being the sight of the
identical vestments I had so lately figured in, bobbing up and down
before my eyes for the whole length of the stage, and leading
to innumerable mischievous allusions from my friend Mr. O'Leary,
which were far too much relished by my fair companion.

At twelve we arrived at Amiens, when I presented my friend Mr