ad started for Algiers.

The clock had just struck ten, A.M. In the middle of a large salon on
the ground floor and which formed the antechamber to Rodolph's business
chamber, Murphy was seated before a bureau, and sealing several
despatches. A groom of the chambers, dressed in black and wearing a
silver chain around his neck, opened the folding-doors and announced:

"His Excellency M. le Baron de Grauen."

Murphy, without ceasing from his employment, received the baron with a
nod at once cordial and familiar.

"M. le Charge d'Affaires," said he, smiling, "will you warm yourself at
the fire? I will be at your service in one moment."

"M. the Private Secretary, I await your leisure," replied M. de Grauen,
gaily, and making, with mock respect, a low and respectful bow to the
worthy squire.

The baron was about fifty years of age, with hair gray, thin, and
lightly curled and powdered. His chin, rather projecting, was partly
concealed in a high cravat of white muslin, starched very stiffly, and
of unimpeachable whiteness. His countenance was expressive of great
intelligence, and his carriage was _distingue_; whilst beneath his gold
spectacles there beamed an eye as shrewd as it was penetrating. Although
it was only ten o'clock in the morning, M. de Grauen wore a black
coat,--that was etiquette,--and a riband, shot with several bright
colours, was suspended from his buttonhole. He placed his hat on a chair
and took his station near the fireplace, whilst Murphy continued his
work.

"His royal highness, no doubt, was up the best part of the night, my
dear Murphy, for your correspondence appears considerable?"

"Monseigneur went to bed at six o'clock this morning. He wrote, amongst
other letters, one of eight pages to the Grand Marshal, and dictated to
me one equally long to the Chief of the Upper Council, the Prince
Herkhauesen-Oldenzaal, his royal highness's cousin."

"You know that his son, Prince Henry, has entered as lieutenant in the
guards in the service of his Majesty the Emperor of Austria?"

"Yes; monseigneur recommended him most warmly as his relation; and he
really is a fine, excellent young man, handsome as an angel, and as good
as gold."

"The fact is, my dear Murphy, that if the young Prince Henry had had his
_entree_ to the grand ducal abbey of Ste. Hermenegilde, of which his
aunt is the superior, the poor nuns--"

"Baron! baron! why--"

"My dear sir, the air of Paris--But let us talk seriously.