oke in the mind of Pitman. "Those spectacles were to be
mine," he cried. "They are an essential part of my disguise."

"I am going to wear them myself," replied Michael; and he added, with
some show of truth, "There would be a devil of a lot of suspicion
aroused if we both wore spectacles."

"O, well," said the assenting Pitman, "I rather counted on them; but of
course, if you insist. And at any rate, here is the cart at the door."

While the men were at work, Michael concealed himself in the closet
among the debris of the barrel and the wires of the piano; and as soon
as the coast was clear the pair sallied forth by the lane, jumped into a
hansom in the King's Road, and were driven rapidly toward town. It was
still cold and raw and boisterous; the rain beat strongly in their
faces, but Michael refused to have the glass let down; he had now
suddenly donned the character of cicerone, and pointed out and lucidly
commented on the sights of London, as they drove. "My dear fellow," he
said, "you don't seem to know anything of your native city. Suppose we
visited the Tower? No? Well, perhaps it's a trifle out of our way. But,
anyway--Here, cabby, drive round by Trafalgar Square!" And on that
historic battle-field he insisted on drawing up, while he criticised the
statues and gave the artist many curious details (quite new to history)
of the lives of the celebrated men they represented.

It would be difficult to express what Pitman suffered in the cab: cold,
wet, terror in the capital degree, a grounded distrust of the commander
under whom he served, a sense of imprudency in the matter of the
low-necked shirt, a bitter sense of the decline and fall involved in the
deprivation of his beard, all these were among the ingredients of the
bowl. To reach the restaurant, for which they were deviously steering,
was the first relief. To hear Michael bespeak a private room was a
second and a still greater. Nor, as they mounted the stair under the
guidance of an unintelligible alien, did he fail to note with gratitude
the fewness of the persons present, or the still more cheering fact that
the greater part of these were exiles from the land of France. It was
thus a blessed thought that none of them would be connected with the
Seminary; for even the French professor, though admittedly a Papist, he
could scarce imagine frequenting so rakish an establishment.

The alien introduced them into a small bare room with a single table, a
sofa,