Emily as I had served the footman. I never once closed my eyes during the night—dressed early the next morning, walked about, looked at Château Trompette and the Roman ruins—thought the hour of ten would never strike, and when it did, I struck the same moment at her door. The man who opened it to me, was the same whom I had treated so ill the night before; the moment he saw me, he put himself into an attitude at once of attack, defence, remonstrance, and revenge, all connected with the affair of the preceding evening.
"Ah, ah, vous voila donc! ce n'étoit pas bien-fait, Monsieur."
"Oui," said I, très nettement fait, et voila encore," slipping a Napoleon into his hand.
"Ca's' arrange trés-joliment, Monsieur," said the man, grinning from ear to ear, and bowing to the ground.
"C'est Madame, que vous voulez donc?"
"Oui," said I.
He led, I followed; he opened the door of
