is juncture of affairs I called to mind that I was not without a
possible resource, and resolved, at whatever cost of mortification, to
beard the Loudon family in their historic city.

In the excellent Scots phrase, I made a moonlight flitting, a thing
never dignified, but in my case unusually easy. As I had scarce a pair
of boots worth portage I deserted the whole of my effects without a
pang. Dijon fell heir to Joan of Arc, the Standard Bearer, and the
Musketeers. He was present when I bought and frugally stocked my new
portmanteau, and it was at the door of the trunk-shop that I took my
leave of him, for my last few hours in Paris must be spent alone. It was
alone, and at a far higher figure than my finances warranted, that I
discussed my dinner; alone that I took my ticket at St. Lazare; all
alone, though in a carriage full of people, that I watched the moon
shine on the Seine flood with its tufted isles, on Rouen with her
spires, and on the shipping in the harbour of Dieppe. When the first
light of the morning called me from troubled slumbers on the deck, I
beheld the dawn at first with pleasure; I watched with pleasure the
green shores of England rising out of rosy haze: I took the salt air
with delight into my nostrils; and then all came back to me--that I was
no longer an artist, no longer myself; that I was leaving all I cared
for, and returning to all that I detested, the slave of debt and
gratitude, a public and a branded failure.

From this picture of my own disgrace and wretchedness it is not
wonderful if my mind turned with relief to the thought of Pinkerton
waiting for me, as I knew, with unwearied affection, and regarding me
with a respect that I had never deserved, and might therefore fairly
hope that I should never forfeit. The inequality of our relation struck
me rudely. I must have been stupid, indeed, if I could have considered
the history of that friendship without shame--I who had given so little,
who had accepted and profited by so much. I had the whole day before me
in London, and I determined, at least in words, to set the balance
somewhat straighter. Seated in the corner of a public place, and calling
for sheet after sheet of paper, I poured forth the expression of my
gratitude, my penitence for the past, my resolutions for the future.
Till now, I told him, my course had been mere selfishness. I had been
selfish to my father and to my friend, taking their help and denying
them (which was all