daresay it'll be a pretty fashionable thing. Shall you be present, Miss?"
"Yes," says I, "I have engaged the second floor of No. 14 in the Square."
"No. 14, is it?" says he, with so acute a promptness that it was a proof that he was competent in all the details of his trade. "No. 14—why, that's a Providence! It's passage goes through to Piper's Alley. Now if you take my advice, Miss, you'll have the best horse in London waiting there at ten o'clock in Piper's Alley. You can leave the rest to Snark, Miss."
"Will you engage the Dover boat?" I asked.
"Yes," says he, "that's all in the three hundred, and the blessed crew that's a-going for to sail it. An' there's no need to look so white about it either. Your rebel's just as good as saved. It's mere nut-cracking to old Snark. He's effected twenty-nine deliverances in all parts o' the world."
"But pray don't forget, sir," says I, anxiously, "that he is sure to be guarded dreadful strong. The Government consider him as highly dangerous, and they know that he hath some influential friends."
"Well, I reckon, Miss," says he, "that they'll want three full regiments o' the line to keep him clear o' Snark."
A short time afterwards my whimsical visitor took his leave. When he had gone, my meditations were remarkable. It was impossible to place an absolute reliance in this ingenious person, yet none
