but unfrequented, I dare say, by any you know."

And without giving me time to protest my utter indifference to the
supercilious criticism referred to, he turned into a doorway, upon a
pane of glass above which was painted a ship in full sail, with the
words "Cafe Estaminet Hollandais." Ascending a flight or two of
stairs, we entered a suite of spacious apartments, furnished with
several billiard tables, with cue-racks, chairs, benches, and small
tables for the use of drinkers. Several of the windows, which looked
out upon the garden of the Palais Royal, were open, in the vain hope,
perhaps, of purifying the place from the inveterate odour of tobacco
remaining there from the previous night. Although it was not yet noon,
the billiard balls rattled vigorously upon more than one of the
tables, and a few early drinkers, chiefly foreigners, professional
billiard players and non-commissioned officers of the Paris garrison,
sipped their Strasburg beer or morning dram of brandy. The further end
of the long gallery, however, was unoccupied, and there Oakley drew a
couple of chairs to a window, called for refreshment as a pretext for
our presence, and seating himself opposite to me, assailed me with a
volley of questions concerning persons and things in England. To these
I replied as satisfactorily as I was able, and allowed the stream of
interrogation to run itself dry, before assuming, in my turn, the
character of questioner. At last, having in some degree appeased
Oakley's eager desire for information about the country whence he had
been so long absent, I intimated a curiosity concerning his own
adventures, and the circumstances that had made a soldier of him. He
at once took the hint, and, perceiving that I listened with friendly
attention and interest, gave me a detailed narrative of his life since
I had first made his acquaintance. He told his story with a spirit and
military conciseness that riveted my attention as much as the real
pungency of the incidents. Its first portion, relating to his London
career, informed me of little beyond what I already knew, or, at
least, had conjectured. It was the everyday tale of a heedless,
inexperienced youth, suddenly cast without guide or Mentor upon the
ocean of life, and striking in turn against all the shoals that
strew the perilous waters. He had been bubbled by gentlemanly
swindlers--none of your low, seedy rapscallions, but men of style
and fashion, even of family, but especial