ow of them could be seen the glitter of
an imitation coat of mail which looked very much like the real article
at a distance, but would have been of about as much use to keep out
sword-point or lance-head in the tourneys of the olden time, as so much
cobweb or blotting paper.

Within the inner door of the costumer's, which Leslie entered hurriedly,
might have been gathered the spoils of all ages and all kingdoms, taking
tinsel for gold and stuff for brocade. The robes and mantles of queens
hung suspended from the walls, blended here and there with suits of
beaded and fringed Indian leather, odd coats and trousers for
exaggerated Jonathans, and diamonded garments of motley for clowns.
Around on the floor, on two sides of the apartment, lay heaps of
garments of all incongruous descriptions, from the court dress of King
Charles' time to the tow and homespun of the Southern darkey, as if just
tumbled over for examination. A few stage swords and spears and two or
three suits of armor of suspicious likeness to block-tin, occupied one
of the back corners; while suspended from pegs and arranged upon shelves
were false beards, wigs and eyebrows, preposterous noses, Indian
head-dresses of feathers, hats of Italian bandits wreathed with greasy
ribbons, and crowns and coronets of all apparent values, from that
flashing with light which Isabella might have worn when all the gold and
gems of Columbus' new world lay at her disposal, to the thin band of
gold with one gem in the centre of the front, which some virgin princess
might modestly have blushed under on her wedding day. Through the
half-open door leading to the adjoining apartment in the rear, still
other treasures of costume run mad were discoverable; until the thought
was likely to strike the observer that "R. Williams, Costumer," had been
the happy recipient of all the cast-off clothes, hirsute as well as
sartorial, dropped by half a dozen generations ranging from king to
clod-hopper.

A short, dark-whiskered, sallow man came forward as Leslie entered,
addressing him by name, with an inquiry after his wishes.

"I want a disguise," said Leslie--"particularly a disguise of the face,
and one that can deceive the sharpest of eyes."

The costumer looked at his face for a moment. "I can make you up," he
said, "so that your best friend--or what is of more difficulty, the
woman who loved you best or hated you worst--wouldn't know you."

"That is it," said Leslie. "Now be quick,