e his toilet for the day,--not a very elaborate nor
a very elegant one, but still a disguise such as the most practised
detective could not have penetrated, and yet removable in a moment,
so that he might, by merely taking off eyebrows and moustaches, become
himself at once.

Having given orders that the gentleman he expected should be shown in on
his arrival, Grog solaced himself at the fire with a morning paper, in
all the ease of slippers and an arm-chair. Almost the first thing that
struck his eye was a paragraph informing the world that the marriage of
a distinguished individual--whose approaching elevation to the peerage
had been already announced--with one of the most beautiful daughters of
the aristocracy would take place early in the ensuing week. And then,
like a codicil to a will, followed a brilliant description of the gold
dressing-case ordered by Mr. Davenport Dunn, at Storr's, for his bride.
He was yet occupied with the paragraph when Mr. Hankes entered the room.

"I am afraid I have made a mistake," said that bland gentleman. "I
thought this was Captain Fisk's apartment."

"You're all right," said Grog, leisurely surveying the visitor, whose
"get up" was really splendid. Amethyst studs glittered on his shirt;
his ample chest seemed a shrine in its display of amulets and charmed
offerings, while a massive chain crossed and recrossed him so frequently
that he appeared to be held together by its coils. Fur and velvet, too,
abounded in his costume; and even to the immense "gland" that depended
from his cane, there was an amount of costliness that bespoke affluence.

"I regret, sir," began Hankes, pompously, "that I have not the honor--"

"Yes, yes; you _have_ the honor," broke in Grog. "You've had it this
many a year. Sit down here. I don't wear exactly so well as you, but you
'll remember me presently. I 'm Kit Davis, man. You don't require me to
say who you are."

"Davis,--Grog Davis," muttered Hankes to himself, while an ashy paleness
spread over his face.

"You don't look overjoyed to meet with an old friend," said Grog, with
a peculiar grin; "but you ought, man. There's no friendships like early
ones. The fellows who knew us in our first scrapes are always more
lenient to our last wickednesses."

"Captain Davis,--Captain Davis!" stammered out Hankes, "this is indeed
an unexpected pleasure!"

"So much so that you can hardly get accustomed to it," said Grog, with
another grin. "Fisk received a h