r Heaven's sake, no! I could not stand the boy alone. Now, Mister
ah!--What's-your-name? Have the goodness to tell your story."

Mr. Billings was woefully disconcerted; for his mother and he had agreed
that as soon as his father saw him he would be recognised at once, and,
mayhap, made heir to the estates and title; in which being disappointed,
he very sulkily went on with his narrative, and detailed many of those
events with which the reader has already been made acquainted. The Count
asked the boy's mother's Christian name, and being told it, his memory
at once returned to him.

"What! are you little Cat's son?" said his Excellency. "By heavens, mon
cher Abbe, a charming creature, but a tigress--positively a tigress. I
recollect the whole affair now. She's a little fresh black-haired woman,
a'n't she? with a sharp nose and thick eyebrows, ay? Ah yes, yes!" went
on my Lord, "I recollect her, I recollect her. It was at Birmingham I
first met her: she was my Lady Trippet's woman, wasn't she?"

"She was no such thing," said Mr. Billings, hotly. "Her aunt kept the
'Bugle Inn' on Waltham Green, and your Lordship seduced her."

"Seduced her! Oh, 'gad, so I did. Stap me, now, I did. Yes, I made her
jump on my black horse, and bore her off like--like Aeneas bore his wife
away from the siege of Rome! hey, l'Abbe?"

"The events were precisely similar," said the Abbe. "It is wonderful
what a memory you have!"

"I was always remarkable for it," continued his Excellency. "Well, where
was I,--at the black horse? Yes, at the black horse. Well, I mounted
her on the black horse, and rode her en croupe, egad--ha, ha!--to
Birmingham; and there we billed and cooed together like a pair of
turtle-doves: yes--ha!--that we did!"

"And this, I suppose, is the end of some of the BILLINGS?" said the
Abbe, pointing to Mr. Tom.

"Billings! what do you mean? Yes--oh--ah--a pun, a calembourg. Fi
donc, M. l'Abbe." And then, after the wont of very stupid people, M. de
Galgenstein went on to explain to the Abbe his own pun. "Well, but to
proceed," cries he. "We lived together at Birmingham, and I was going to
be married to a rich heiress, egad! when what do you think this little
Cat does? She murders me, egad! and makes me manquer the marriage.
Twenty thousand, I think it was; and I wanted the money in those days.
Now, wasn't she an abominable monster, that mother of yours, hey, Mr.
a--What's-your-name?"

"She served you right!" said Mr. Bill