imself, ascended to the chamber of the knight.

A sad sight awaited him.

Seated upon a travelling trunk, with a visage which had become
elongated to a really distressing degree, Sir Asinus was sighing, and
casting a last lingering look behind.

His apartment was in great disorder--presenting indeed that negligent
appearance which rooms are accustomed to present, when their occupants
are about to depart. The books were all stowed away in boxes--the
pictures taken down--the bed unmade--the sofa littered with papers,
and the violin, and flute--the general air of the desolate room, that
of a man who has parted with his last hope and wishes to exist no
longer.

But the appearance of Sir Asinus was worse than that of his apartment.

"Good morning, my dear Jacques," said the knight, sighing; "you visit
me at a sad moment."

Jacques smiled.

"I am just on the wing."

"As I see."

"From my placard, eh?"

"Yes."

"Well, have you any commands?"

"For Europe?"

"Precisely."

"Well--no," said Jacques, with indecorous levity; "except that you
will present my respects to Pitt and Barre."

"Scoffer!"

"Hey! who scoffed?"

"You!"

"I did not."

"You laugh, unworthy friend that you are," said Sir Asinus; "you
deride me."

"Not at all."

"You rejoice at my departure."

"No."

"At any rate, you are not sorry," said Sir Asinus, sighing; "and I
return the compliment. I myself am not sorry to part with the unworthy
men who have misunderstood me, and persecuted me. A martyr to
political ideas--to love for my country--I go to foreign lands to seek
a home."

And having uttered this melancholy sentence, the woful knight twirled
his thumbs, and sighed piteously.

As for Jacques, he smiled.

"When do you leave?" he said.

Sir Asinus pointed to the placard.

"On the morrow?"

"Yes."

"Well, there is time yet to attend the May-festival at Shadynook. Come
along."

"No, no," said Sir Asinus, sighing; "no, I thank you. I have had all
my noble aspirations chilled--my grand ideas destroyed; my heart is no
longer fit for merriment. I depart."

And rising, Sir Asinus seated himself upon the table disconsolately.

Jacques looked at him and smiled.

"Do you know, my dear Asinus," he said, "that you present at this
moment the grandest and most heroic picture? When a great man suffers,
the world should weep."

"Instead of which, you laugh."

"I? I am not laughing."

"You are smiling."

"That is becaus