at a rapid rate, the postillions cracking their whips
the while, stopped at the French embassy. The powdered head of the old
man appeared at the window of the chaise, and the Swiss of the embassy
replied, in execrable French, to a question put to him thus:

"Monsieur, the Marquis de Maulear does not stop in the embassy. His
apartments were too small for two."

The Swiss, enchanted by this reply, which he thought eminently witty,
bowed to the traveller, and was about to return to his chair, when the
old man again called him:

"But, my fine fellow," said he to the Helvetian, "you have not yet told
me where the Marquis does live."

"The Marquis de Maulear," said the Swiss, "is in the palace of
Cellamare, where he rented a pavilion near the gardens of the
Villa-Reale."

"To the palace Cellamare," said the traveller to the postillion; and the
latter drove off at a gallop.

After about five minutes the same powdered head appeared at the door,
and the traveller said, "Hollo! postillion, stop; do you hear, rascal;
pull up."

"What does your excellency, sir?" asked the postillion.

"Take my excellency to the best Hotel in Naples."

"The best is _la Vittoria_, between the bay and Villa Reale."

The postillion lied, for _le Crocelle_ was better; but at _la Vittoria_
they received two piastres a piece for travellers, and at _le Crocelle_
got nothing. The _Vittoria_, then, was the best hotel in Naples for
postillions, but not for travellers. The apartments of the Marquis de
Maulear, the witty Swiss had told him, were too small for two; and this
information had induced him thus suddenly to change his plan. The
traveller thought the Marquis might have yielded to some tender
influence, and contracted a _quasi morganatique_ marriage as a prelude
to more serious ties. "If that be so," said the stranger, "it would be
wrong to go to the Marquis's house. I do not wish to surprise him by a
simple visit which would not have the effect of a solemn interview."

The chaise stopped at _la Vittoria_. Two servants and an intendant came
to the carriage, and the postillion received eight piastres for his
human freight. The Marquis de Maulear had really taken his young wife to
the palace of Cellamare, a portion of which was rented to wealthy
strangers a few days after his marriage. The Marquis had acted decidedly
in writing to his father that he had married without consulting him.
Henceforth it was of no importance whether the world knew