e silver forks and cup it
contained; and the horses whirled the carriage along at full speed as he
did so.

"You are perfectly munificent, sir," cried Skefif, angrily, "with what
does not belong to you. The proprietor of the Hotel d'Universo will
probably look to you for payment for hi s property."

"If your friend of the Universo has a salt spoon of his own this time
to-morrow, he 'll be a lucky dog."

"How so? What do you mean?"

"I mean, sir, that as the troops withdraw, pillage will begin. There is
but one force in Naples that could control a mob."

"And that is?"

"The Camorra! and but one man could command the Camorra, and he is
here!"

"Indeed!" said Skeff, with the very faintest possible sarcasm.

"As I tell you, sir. Colonel M'Caskey might have saved that city; and,
instead of it, he is rumbling along over a paved road, going heaven
knows where, with heaven knows whom, for heaven knows what!"

"You are either rude or forgetful, sir. I have already told you my name
and quality."

"So you have, Skeff; but as a man rises in the service, he forgets the
name of the uncommissioned officers. You are attache, or what is it?"

"I am Charge d'Affaires of Great Britain."

"And devilish few will be the affairs you 'll have in your charge this
day week."

"How do you make out that?"

"First of all, if we are to pass through our lines to reach Garibaldi,
all our fellows will fire a parting salute after us as we go,--ay, and
with ball. Secondly, as we approach the rebels, they 'll pay us the same
attention."

"Not with our flag of truce flying."

"Your flag of truce, Skeffy, will only show them that we come unarmed,
and make their aim all the steadier in consequence."

"And why was I told that your presence would be protection?"

"Because, sir, if it should fail to be, it is that no other man's in
Europe could be such."

"I 'll not turn back, if you mean that," said Skeff, boldly; and for
the first time on the journey M'Caskey turned round and took a leisurely
survey of his companion.

"You are, I hope, satisfied with my personal appearance," said Skeff,
insolently.

"Washy, washy," said M'Caskey, dryly; "but I have met two or three of
the same stamp who had pluck."

"The freedom of your tongue, sir, inclines me very considerably to doubt
_yours_."

M'Caskey made a bound on his seat, and threw his cigar through the
window, while he shouted to the postilion to stop.

"Why should he stop?" aske