. He was not certain, but he thought that a slight motion of
her faultless bonnet betrayed recognition. He would have wildly darted
into the shop, but just then the figure of the mantuamaker appeared in
the doorway.

--Did Monsieur wish anything?

Misfortune! Desperation. N N. purchased a bottle of Prussic acid, a
sack of charcoal, and a quire of pink note-paper, and returned home.
He wrote a letter of farewell to the closely fitting basque, and opened
the bottle of Prussic acid.

Some one knocked at his door. It was a Chinaman, with his weekly linen.

These Chinese are docile, but not intelligent. They are ingenious, but
not creative. They are cunning in expedients, but deficient in tact.
In love they are simply barbarous. They purchase their wives openly,
and not constructively by attorney. By offering small sums for their
sweethearts, they degrade the value of the sex.

Nevertheless, N N. felt he was saved. He explained all to the faithful
Mongolian, and exhibited the letter he had written. He implored him to
deliver it.

The Mongolian assented. The race are not cleanly or sweet-savored, but
N N. fell upon his neck. He embraced him with one hand, and closed his
nostrils with the other. Through him, he felt he clasped the
close-fitting basque.

The next day was one of agony and suspense. Evening came, but no
Mercy. N N. lit the charcoal. But, to compose his nerves, he closed
his door and first walked mildly up and down Montgomery Street. When
he returned, he found the faithful Mongolian on the steps.

--All lity!

These Chinese are not accurate in their pronunciation. They avoid the
r, like the English nobleman.

N N. gasped for breath. He leaned heavily against the Chinaman.

--Then you have seen her, Ching Long?

--Yes. All lity. She cum. Top side of house.

The docile barbarian pointed up the stairs, and chuckled.

--She here--impossible! Ah, Heaven! do I dream?

--Yes. All lity,--top side of house. Good by, John.

This is the familiar parting epithet of the Mongolian. It is
equivalent to our au revoir.

N N. gazed with a stupefied air on the departing servant.

He placed his hand on his throbbing heart. She here,--alone beneath
this roof. O Heavens, what happiness!

But how? Torn from her home. Ruthlessly dragged, perhaps, from her
evening devotions, by the hands of a relentless barbarian. Could she
forgive him?

He dashed frantically up the stairs. He open