olting by the dim light of the watch-house, fell, fixed and
scowling, upon me, as he pointed towards the spot where I
stood.--"Dobson," he exclaimed; and, at the word, forth stepped the
owner of this melodious appellative, with "this here man."--Luckily,
before he could finish his charge, a five-shilling-piece, which I
thrust into his unsuspecting palm, created a diversion among the
watchmen in my behalf; under favour of which, while my arch enemy
was adjusting his books, I contrived to escape from his detested
presence.

It happened that about a month subsequent to this last rencontre,
circumstances led me to Bologne, whither I arrived, late in the
evening, by the steamboat. On being directed to the best English
hotel in that truly social Anglo-Gallic little town, I chanced to
find in the coffee-room an old crony, whom I had known years since
at Cambridge, and who had just arrived from Switzerland, on a
speculation connected with some vineyards.

I had a thousand questions to ask my friend, a thousand memories to
disinter from their graves in my heart, past follies to re-enact,
past scenes to re-people. We began with our school-days, pursued the
subject to Cambridge, carried it back again to Reading, and thence
traced it through all its windings, now in sunshine, now in gloom,
till the canvass of our recollection was fairly filled with
portraits. In this way, time, unperceived, slipped on; noon deepened
into evening, evening blackened into midnight, yet nothing but our
wine was exhausted.

At last, after a long evening spent in the freest and most social
converse, my friend quitted the coffee-room, while I--imitating, as
I went, the circumlocutory windings of the Meander--proceeded to my
allotted chamber. Unfortunately, on reaching the head of the first
staircase, where two opposite doors presented themselves, I opened
(as a matter of course) the wrong one, which led me into a spacious
apartment, in which were placed two fat, full-grown beds. My lantern
happening to go out at the moment, I was compelled to forego
all further scrutiny, so without more ado, flung off my clothes,
and dived, at one dexterous plunge, right into the centre
of the nearest vacant bed. In an instant I was fast asleep;
my imagination, oppressed with the day's events, had become
fairly exhausted, and I now lay chained down in that heavy,
dreamless sleep, which none but fatigued travellers can appreciate.
Towards daybreak, I was roused by a p