nants. Having dismissed his
cab, the Yorkshireman entered the first gateway on his left, to take
the chance of gaining some intelligence of the Countess. The Porter--a
cobbler by trade--was hammering away, last on knee, at the sole of a
shoe, and with a grin on his countenance, informed the Yorkshireman that
the Countess lived next door but one. A thrill of fear came over him on
finding himself so near the residence of his indignant friend, but it
was of momentary duration, and he soon entered the courtyard of No.
3--where he was directed by an unshaved grisly-looking porter, to
proceed "un troisieme," and ring the bell at the door on the right-hand
side. Obedient to his directions, the Yorkshireman proceeded to climb a
wide but dirty stone staircase, with carved and gilded balusters, whose
wall and steps had known no water for many years, and at length found
himself on the landing opposite the very apartment which contained the
redoubtable Jorrocks. Here he stood for a few seconds, breathing and
cooling himself after his exertions, during which time he pictured to
himself the worthy citizen immersed in papers deeply engaged in the
preparation of his France in three volumes, and wished that the first
five minutes of their interview were over. At length he mustered courage
to grasp a greasy-looking red tassel, and give a gentle tinkle to the
bell. The door was quickly opened by Agamemnon in dirty loose trousers
and slippers, and without a coat. He recognised his fellow-traveller,
and in answer to his inquiry if Monsieur Jorrocks was at home, grinned,
and answered, "Oh oui, certainement, Monsieur le Colonel Jorrockes est
ici," and motioned him to come in. The Yorkshireman entered the little
ante-room--a sort of scullery, full of mops, pans, dirty shoes, dusters,
candlesticks--and the first thing that caught his eye was Jorrocks's
sword, which Agamemnon had been burnishing up with sandpaper and
leather, lying on a table before the window. This was not very
encouraging, but Agamemnon gave no time for reflection, and opening half
a light salmon-coloured folding door directly opposite the one by which
he entered, the Yorkshireman passed through, unannounced and unperceived
by Mr. Jorrocks or the Countess, who were completely absorbed in a game
of dominoes, sitting on opposite sides of a common deal table, whose
rose-coloured silk cover was laid over the back of a chair. Jorrocks was
sitting on a stool with his back to the door,