efusal,
and so I yielded; and away we went together to the "Schleswicker Hof," a
magnificent hotel in the finest quarter of the town.

"No need to show your passport to any one," said he to me, in a whisper,
as we entered the house; "I 'll arrange all."

By the time I had refreshed myself with a bath and dressed, the waiter
came to say that Count Ysaffich was waiting dinner for me; and though
I gladly would have asked a few particulars of one with whose name and
person he seemed evidently acquainted, there was no time allowed me,
as he led the way to a splendid apartment, where the table was already
spread.

It was not without an effort that I recognized my friend the Count
in his change of costume; for, though good-looking and even handsome
before, he might now strike the beholder with admiration. He wore a
blue military pelisse, richly braided with gold, and fastened with large
Brandenburg buttons. It was sufficiently open in front to display a vest
of scarlet cloth, all slashed with gold. His trousers were black, with a
broad gold band along the sides, while a richly embossed belt of Russia
leather supported a sabre of most costly and gorgeous make. He wore
several handsome decorations, and around the throat, by a broad blue
ribbon, a splendid diamond cross, with the letters "P. C." in the
centre.

"I have not dressed for dinner," said he, as I entered, "since we must
take a stroll under the linden-trees when it grows cool, and have our
cigar there. After that, we 'll look in at the opera; and if not very
attractive, I 'll present you at one or two houses where they receive of
an evening, and where, when you come again, you will be always welcome."

Since I had gone so far, I resolved to abide by all his arrangements,
and suffer him to dispose of my time just as he pleased.

Our dinner was excellent. The Count had bestowed pains in ordering it,
and all was of that perfection in cookery for which Hamburg was, and
is, so justly famed. Nor was the wine inferior to the rest of the
entertainment. Of this the Count appeared to be a connoisseur, and
pressed me to taste a dozen different kinds, the very names of which
were unknown to me. His conversation, too, was so amusing, so full of
strange incidents and adventures, such curious anecdotes, such shrewd
remarks, that I was by no means impatient to rise from table.

"I see," said he, at last, "we are too late for the opera. Hanserlist's
reception is also nearly over