en a small portion of your
bed-clothes."

"No, thank you, no more wine; but I'll sing with pleasure;" and here the
wretch, in something like the voice of a frog with the quinsy, began,
"'I'd mourn the hopes that leave me.'"

"You shall mourn something else for the same reason," said I, as losing
all patience, I seized quilts and blankets by the corner, and with one
vigourous pull wrenched them from the bed, and darted from the room--in a
second I was in the corridor, trailing my spoil behind--which in my haste
I had not time to collect in a bundle. I flew rather than ran along the
passage, reached the stairs, and in another minute had reached the second
gallery, but not before I heard the slam of a door behind me, and the
same instant the footsteps of a person running along the corridor, who
could be no other than my pursuer, effectually aroused by my last appeal
to his charity. I darted along the dark and narrow passage; but soon to
my horror discovered that I must have passed the door of my chamber, for
I had reached the foot of a narrow back stair, which led to the grenier
and the servants' rooms, beneath the roof. To turn now would only have
led me plump in the face of my injured countryman, of whose thew and
sinew I was perfectly ignorant, and did not much like to venture upon.
There was little time for reflection, for he had now reached the top of
the stair, and was evidently listening for some clue to guide him on;
stealthily and silently, and scarcely drawing breath, I mounted the
narrow stairs step by step, but before I had arrived at the landing, he
heard the rustle of the bed-clothes, and again gave chace. There was
something in the unrelenting ardour of his pursuit, which suggested to my
mind the idea of a most uncompromising foe; and as fear added speed to my
steps, I dashed along beneath the low-roofed passage, wondering what
chance of escape might yet present itself. Just at this instant, the
hand by which I had guided myself along the wall, touched the handle of a
door--I turned it--it opened--I drew in my precious bundle, and closing
the door noiselessly, sat down, breathless and still, upon the floor.

Scarcely was this, the work of a second, accomplished, when the heavy
tread of my pursuer resounded on the floor.

"Upon my conscience it's strange if I haven't you now, my friend," said
he: "you're in a cul de sac here, as they say, if I know any thing of the
house; and faith I'll make a salad o