f the
workmanship, two of the spokes were broken--the patent box was a mass of
rent metal, and the end of the axle turned downwards like a hoe.

I cannot convey any idea of poor Kilkee's distraction; and, in reality,
my own was little short of it; for the wretch had so far out-stripped my
orders, that I became horrified at the cruel destruction before me. We
both, therefore, stormed in the most imposing English and French, first
separately and then together. We offered a reward for the apprehension
of the culprit, whom no one appeared to know, although, as it happened,
every one in a large household was aware of the transaction but the
proprietor himself. We abused all--innkeeper, waiters, ostlers, and
chambermaids, collectively and individually--condemned Calais as a den of
iniquity, and branded all Frenchmen as rogues and vagabonds. This seemed
to alleviate considerably my friend's grief, and excite my thirst
--fortunately, perhaps for us; for if our eloquence had held out much
longer, I am afraid our auditory might have lost their patience; and,
indeed, I am quite certain if our French had not been in nearly as
disjointed a condition as the spokes of the caleche, such must have been
the case.

"Well, Mr. Lorrequer, I suppose, then, we are not destined to be
fellow-travellers--for if you must go to-morrow--"

"Alas! It is imperative," said I.

"Then in any case, let us arrange where we shall meet, for I hope to be
in Paris the day after you."

"I'll stop at Meurice."

"Meurice, be it," said he, "so now good night, till we meet in Paris."

THE CONFESSIONS OF HARRY LORREQUER, Vol. 4

[By Charles James Lever (1806-1872)]

Dublin

MDCCCXXXIX.

Volume 4. (Chapter XXIV-XXVIII)

Contents:

CHAPTER XXIV
The Gen d'Arme

CHAPTER XXV
The Inn at Chantraine

CHAPTER XXVI
Mr O'Leary

CHAPTER XXVII
Paris

CHAPTER XXVIII
Paris

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE GEN D'ARME.

I had fortunately sufficient influence upon my fair friends to persuade
them to leave Calais early on the morning following; and two hours before
Kilkee had opened his eyes upon this mortal life, we were far upon the
road to Paris.

Having thus far perfectly succeeded in my plot, my spirit rose rapidly,
and I made every exertion to make the road appear short to my
fellow-travellers. This part of France is unfortunately deficient in any
interest from scenery; large undivided tracts of waving cornfields, with
a back-