petite, and I sat looking at the table, and
almost wondering why the dishes were there. I thought of all the kind
friends far away, who would have been so delighted to assist me; who,
at that very hour perhaps, were speaking of me affectionately; and yet
I had not one near, even to speak a word of counsel, or say one syllable
of encouragement. It was not, it may well be believed, the monied loss
that afflicted me--the sum was neither large, nor did I care for it. It
was the utter desolation, and the sense of dependence, that galled me--a
feeling whose painful tortures, even temporary as they were, I cannot,
at this hour, eradicate from my memory.

Had I been left enough to continue my journey in the very humblest way,
on foot even, it would have been happiness compared with what I felt. I
arose at last from the table, where the untasted food still stood, and
strolled out into the streets. I wandered about listlessly, not even
feeling that amusement the newly seen objects of a great city almost
always confer, and it was late when I turned back to the inn. As I
entered, a man was standing talking with the master of the house, who,
in his broken English, said, as I passed, "There he is!" I at once
suspected that my sad adventure had been the subject of conversation,
and hurried up the stairs to hide my shame. In my haste, however, I
forgot my key at the porter's lodge, and was obliged to go back to fetch
it. On doing so, I met on the stairs a large, coarse-looking man, with
a florid face, and an air of rough but of simple good-nature in his
countenance. "You are a countryman, I believe?" said he in English.
"Well, I've just heard of what has happened to you. The rascals tried
the same trick with me at Modena; but I had an iron chain around _my_
trunk, and as they were baulked, and while they were rattling at it, I
got a shot at one of them with a pistol--not to hurt the devil, for it
was only duck-shot; not a bullet, you know. Where's your room?--is this
it?"

I hesitated to reply, strange enough; though he shewed that he was well
aware of all my loss. I felt ashamed to shew that I had no baggage, nor
any thing belonging to me. He seemed to guess what passed in my mind,
and said,--

"Bless your heart, sir, never mind me. I know the rogues have stripped
you of all you had; but I want to talk to you about it, and see what is
best to be done."

This gave me courage. I unlocked the door, and shewed him in.

"I suspected