ntwined, and stars the green with its purple and crimson
flowers. I sat down here, and had a smoke. It seems that the former
occupant of my rooms at the settlement read French; for in searching
for a book to bring with me--I never walk without a book--I found and
pocketed a volume of Balzac. It proved to be a portion of the Vie Privee
series, and I stumbled upon a story called La Fausse Maitresse.
With calm belief in the Paris of his imagination--where Marcas was a
politician, Nucingen a banker, Gobseck a money-lender, and Vautrin a
candidate for some such place as this--Balzac introduces me to a Pole by
name Paz, who, loving the wife of his friend, devotes himself to watch
over her happiness and her husband's interest. The husband gambles and
is profligate. Paz informs the wife that the leanness which hazard
and debauchery have caused to the domestic exchequer is due to his
extravagance, the husband having lent him money. She does not believe,
and Paz feigns an intrigue with a circus-rider in order to lull all
suspicions. She says to her adored spouse, "Get rid of this extravagant
friend! Away with him! He is a profligate, a gambler! A drunkard!"
Paz finally departs, and when he has gone, the lady finds out the poor
Pole's worth. The story does not end satisfactorily. Balzac was too
great a master of his art for that. In real life the curtain never falls
on a comfortably-finished drama. The play goes on eternally.

I have been thinking of the story all evening. A man who loves his
friend's wife, and devotes his energies to increase her happiness by
concealing from her her husband's follies! Surely none but Balzac
would have hit upon such a notion. "A man who loves his friend's
wife."--Asmodeus, I write no more! I have ceased to converse with thee
for so long that I blush to confess all that I have in my heart.--I will
not confess it, so that shall suffice.

CHAPTER IV. EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF THE REV. JAMES NORTH.

August 24th.--There has been but one entry in my journal since the 30th
June, that which records the advent of our new Commandant, who, as I
expected, is Captain Maurice Frere.

So great have been the changes which have taken place that I
scarcely know how to record them. Captain Frere has realized my worst
anticipations. He is brutal, vindictive, and domineering. His knowledge
of prisons and prisoners gives him an advantage over Burgess, otherwise
he much resembles that murderous animal. He