d he, ominously. "Nap.
knows me; he knows my influence with the Tories. To let me escape would
be to blow all his schemes to the winds. I am destined for the 'Temple,'
if not for the guillotine."

The solemnity of his voice and manner at this moment was too much for
me, and I laughed outright.

"Ay, you may laugh; so does Anna Maria."

"And is Miss Bubbleton here, too?"

"Yes; we are both here," ejaculated he, with a deep sigh. "Rue Neuve
des Capucines, No. 46, four flights above the entresol! Ay, and in
that entresol they have two spies of Fouche's police; I know them well,
though they pretend to be hairdressers. I'm too much for old Fouche yet;
depend upon it, Tom."

It was in vain I endeavored to ascertain what circumstances led him
to believe himself suspected by the Government; neither was I more
fortunate in discovering how he first became a _detenu_. The mist of
imaginary events, places, and people which he had conjured up around
him, prevented his ever being able to see his way, or know clearly any
one fact connected with his present position. Dark hints about spies,
suspicious innuendoes of concealed enemies, plotting prefets and opened
letters, had actually filled his brain to the exclusion of everything
rational and reasonable, and I began seriously to fear for my poor
friend's intellect.

Hoping by a change of topic to induce a more equable tone of thinking, I
asked about Ireland.

"All right there! they've hanged 'em all," said he. Then, as if suddenly
remembering himself, he added, with a slight confusion, "You were well
out of that scrape, Tom. Your old friend Barton had a warrant for you
the morning you left, and there was a reward of five hundred pounds for
your apprehension; and something, too, for a confounded old piper,--old
Blast-the-Bellows, I think they called him."

"Darby! What of him, Bubbleton? they did not take him, I trust?"

"No, by Jove! They hanged two fellows, each of whom they believed to
be him, and he was in the crowd looking on, they say. But he's at large
still; and the report goes, Barton does not stir out at night for fear
of meeting him, as the fellow has an old score to settle with him."

"And so, all hopes of liberty would seem extinguished now," said I,
gloomily.

"That is as you may take it, Tom. I'm a bad judge of these things; but I
fancy that a man who can live here might contrive to eke out life under
a British Government; though he might yearn now and then