Confound him what does he mean by running away
in that fashion. It would serve him right were I to decamp by one of
the windows before he comes back; but hark! some one is approaching.

"I tell you I cannot be mistaken," said the man's voice from without.

"Oh, impossible!" said a lady-like accent that seemed not heard by me for
the first time.

"Judge for yourself; though certainly the last time you saw him may
confuse your memory a little."

"What the devil does he mean by that?" said I, as the door opened, and a
very beautiful young woman came forward, who, after a moment's
hesitation, called out--

"True, indeed, it is Mr. Lorrequer, but he seems to have forgotten me."

The eyes, the lips, the tone of the voice, were all familiar. What! can
it be possible? Her companion who had now entered, stood behind her,
holding his sides with ill-suppressed mirth; and at length called out--

"Harry, my boy, you scarcely were more discomposed the last morning we
parted, when the yellow plush--"

"By Jove it is," said I, as I sprang forward, and seizing my fair friend
in my arms, saluted upon both cheeks my quondam flame, Miss Kamworth, now
the wife of my old friend Jack Waller, of whom I have made due mention in
an early chapter of these Confessions.

Were I given a muster roll of my acquaintance to say which of them might
inhabit this deserted mansion, Jack Waller would certainly have been the
last I should have selected--the gay, lively, dashing, high-spirited
Jack, fond of society, dress, equipage, living greatly in the world,
known to and liked by every body, of universal reputation. Did you want
a cavalier to see your wife through a crush at the opera, a friend in a
duel, a rider for your kicking horse in a stiff steeple chase, a bow oar
for your boat at a rowing match, Jack was your man. Such then was my
surprise at finding him here, that although there were many things I
longed to inquire about, my first question was--

"And how came you here?"

"Life has its vicissitudes," replied Jack, laughing; "many stranger
things have come to pass than my reformation. But first of all let us
think of breakfast; you shall have ample satisfaction for all your
curiosity afterwards."

"Not now, I fear; I am hurrying on to Munich."

"Oh, I perceive; but you are aware that--your friends are not there."

"The Callonbys not at Munich!" said I, with a start.

"No; they have been at Saltzburgh, in the Tyrol, for some w