age,
In thy body found a cage
Or a lair.

And once more on Earth was sent,
To retrieve a life misspent,
Till his crimes he should repent.
In that form.

But hereafter might arise,
After penance to the skies,
Where bliss awaiting lies
His reform.

My lamp burns low. Farewell.
Thus ends my verse's spell.
And now thy mournful yell--
Fearful din--

May commence, my eyeballs ache,
For my couch I now must make,
I to sleep and thou to wake,
May'st begin.

* * * * *

Immense applause greeted this last ode of our artist's, and the health
of the new poet laureate was proposed by Mr. Oldstone and drunk all
round, after which our artist returned thanks in a humorous speech which
called forth much laughter from the other members, and much clapping of
hands and rattling of glasses ensued. Glasses were then refilled, and
after a little more pleasant conversation the party broke up for the
night and each retired to his solitary bed-chamber.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XI.

LOST IN THE CATACOMBS.--THE ANTIQUARY'S STORY.

The next morning broke dull and cheerless. It had been snowing hard all
night, and was snowing still, and so murky was the atmosphere that the
club was obliged to breakfast by candle-light, and indeed continued to
burn candles till early noon.

Our artist was in despair about the weather, for he reckoned upon a long
sitting from his fair model, and, under the circumstances, painting was
impossible, so he wandered gloomily about the inn like a wild animal in
a cage. Breakfast over, a discussion arose as to what should be the
order of the day. Some voted for cards, others felt inclined for chess,
yet no one felt a very strong longing for any one thing in particular.
It was one of those melancholy days when a man really does not know what
to do with himself. Some yawned and stretched themselves, others gazed
gloomily out into the darkness, until someone suddenly recollected that
it was Mr. Oldstone's turn to tell a story, so without more delay,
chairs were drawn round the fire, Jack Hearty was called for to put on a
fresh log, pipes were lit, and Mr. Oldstone forced into an arm-chair and
pressed to begin his story without further preface.

Our host was invited to remain, but he excuse