old him I never could consent to such a proposition, and putting my
chateau (chapeau) on my head, I left the house at once."

It was nearly three o'clock in the morning, as accompanied by the
waiter, who, like others of his tribe, had become a kind of somnambulist
ex-officio, I wended my way up one flight of stairs, and down another,
along a narrow corridor, down two steps, through an antechamber, and
into another corridor, to No. 82, my habitation for the night. Why I
should have been so far conducted from the habitable portion of the
house I had spent my evening in, I leave the learned in such matters to
explain; as for me, I have ever remarked it, while asking for a chamber
in a large roomy hotel, the singular pride with which you are ushered up
grand stair-cases, down passages, through corridors, and up narrow back
flights, till the blue sky is seen through the sky-light, to No. 199,
"the only spare bed-room in the house," while the silence and desolation
of the whole establishment would seem to imply far otherwise--the only
evidence of occupation being a pair of dirty Wellingtons at the door of
No. 2.

"Well, we have arrived at last," said I, drawing a deep sigh, as I threw
myself upon a ricketty chair, and surveyed rapidly my meagre-looking
apartment.

"Yes, this is Monsieur's chamber," said the waiter, with a very peculiar
look, half servile, half droll. "Madame se couche, No. 28."

"Very well, good night," said I, closing the door hastily, and not liking
the farther scrutiny of the fellow's eye, as he fastened it on me, as if
to search what precise degree of relationship existed between myself and
my fair friend, whom he had called "Madame" purposely to elicit an
observation from me. "Ten to one though," said I, as I undressed myself,
"but they think she is my wife--how good--but again--ay, it is very
possible, considering we are in France. Numero vingt-huit, quite far
enough from this part of the house I should suppose from my number,--that
old gen-d'arme was a fine fellow--what strong attachment to Napoleon; and
the story of the pope; I hope I may remember that. Isabella, poor girl
--this adventure must really distress her--hope she is not crying over it
--what a devil of a hard bed--and it is not five feet long too--and,
bless my soul, is this all by way of covering; why I shall be perished
here. Oh! I must certainly put all my clothes over me in addition,
unfortunately there is no hearth-rug--well, t