CHAPTER VII.

WHEN the Comte arrived in London, he found no difficulty in obtaining the address of his quondam youthful friend, Mr. Maxwell; and their meeting was such as might be expected between two persons who have frequently, during a protracted separation, thought upon the days of "auld lang syne."

Comte Louis listened to the particulars of his brother bondsman's escape, with a degree of patience which is seldom bestowed upon long stories and was not the less anxious for an introduction to old Bagsby, because he could not exactly comprehend the nature of the threat

ened Chancery suit, with which that ancient

limb of the law had so effectually alarmed the gentleman in black.

The two friends accordingly repaired forthwith to Lyon's Inn, where they found the lean veteran at his post, and received that sort of welcome which rich clients usually experience from experienced legal advisers.

Mr. Maxwell introduced the Comte and his business and the Comte himself endeavoured to elucidate the subject; but he spoke such an odd sort of English, as might have tended to perplex any one, except an old lawyer, who had lived more than half a century in the midst of botheration and intricate investigation.

"Humph!" said the man of parchment, after patiently listening to his client's statement, "Humph! This is an ugly piece of business!" and he pulled off his spectacles, and laid them on the table, and threw himself back

in his chair, and projected his under lip, and began to pull it with the forefinger and thumb of his left hand, while the two friends, but more particularly the Comte, watched his motions with no small degreee of anxiety, and a most profound and respectful silence.

After a brief pause, there appeared a gleam of cunning exultation lighted up in the old fellow's eye; and his wrinkled mouth, in spite of the hold upon the under lip, pursed itself into somewhat like a corresponding smile. Divers other contortions followed, such as one might suppose to have been in fashion among the Sybils; and, at length, he spoke oracularly.

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Humph! This is an ugly piece of business! But, however, Sir, if you will put yourself entirely in my hands, and follow my directions. implicitly, I think we need not despair. Indeed I have no doubt we shall be able to pull you through."

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"Estil possible!" exclaimed the Comte, my dear Sir! What a fool I have been to waste my time in parleying with ignorant monks and priests, instead of coming to you! I am perfectly enchanted and astonished at your abilities ! It is a disgrace to your highly polished and polite nation that you are not Lord Chancellor!"

We have here given the substance, rather than the words of Monsieur Le Comte D'Ormalle, and mean, during the recital of what happened to him in England, to adopt the same plan, inasmuch as, if we were to repeat his Gallicisms, the effect produced might be somewhat too light and ludicrous for the serious nature of our tale. It is not to be expected in any case that foreigners can speak like natives. Indeed, the gentleman in black had told our heroes many years before, when they were commencing their travels, that, notwithstanding his friendship

and wish to oblige them, he could not assist them in that particular.

"For," said he, "in spite of the constant intercourse which I have with various nations, the continual alterations in idioms and phraseology, and the coining and changing of words are such, that I am frequently puzzled myself."

In the present case, however, the Comte's bad English was of little importance, since most persons can understand flattering speeches, however indifferently they may be expressed.

Bagsby, therefore, bowed his acknowledgments, and muttered somewhat about its being a man's duty to be satisfied, if "in these times he could get bread and cheese, and make both ends meet."

Mr. Maxwell, who had now, under the instruction of his father's old friend and servant, Mr. Ledger, become somewhat like a man of