ionist.

"You must come with me, Mr. Stoute," said the professor of Greek. "If it
turns out that Mr. Rogier don't speak English, I should be in an
unfortunate dilemma."

"I will go with you with pleasure," laughed Mr. Stoute, who was rather
desirous of witnessing the interview.

They were conducted to the apartments of the distinguished minister, and
formally and ceremoniously ushered into his presence. He bowed, and
regarded his visitors with cool indifference.

"Whom have I the honor to address?" asked the minister, in good English,
when Mr. Hamblin had made his best bow.

"I am Professor Hamblin, from the United States, at your service,"
replied the learned gentleman, who seemed to believe that this
announcement would bring the Belgian statesman to his feet, if not to
his arms--the professor's.

"Ah, indeed!" replied the minister, blankly.

"I had the pleasure of receiving a note from you at Antwerp," added the
American celebrity, annoyed at the coolness of the revolutionist.

"A note from me!" exclaimed the Belgian celebrity, curtly. "I never saw
you or heard of you before in my life."

Mr. Hamblin produced the formidable envelope, and drew therefrom the
epistle of sweet savor, which had been such a comfort to him in his
troubles. He presented it to the minister, satisfied that this would
recall the matter to his recollection.

"This note is not from me. I did not write it," said the Belgian, when
he had glanced hastily at the page.

"Really, I beg your excellency's pardon; but it is signed with your
name."

"It is a forgery--what you Americans call a practical joke, probably. I
haven't been in Antwerp for months."

There was an apparent convulsion in the fat frame of Mr. Stoute, who was
evidently struggling to suppress his mirth, or keep it within decent
limits.

"I am very sorry, sir," stammered Mr. Hamblin.

"The letter is an imposition, sir. I never heard of you before in my
life," added the great Belgian, tossing the note back to the professor,
with an impatience which indicated that he never wished to see him
again.

That vision had exploded--no invitation to dinner, none to visit the
king, none to accept the position of Librarian of the Greek portion of
the Royal Library, whose only duty was to consist in drawing his salary.
Mr. Hamblin bowed, and so far conformed to his original programme as to
back out of the office. Doubtless he came to the conclusion, in his
disgust, that Belgium was