face wore a disagreeable
expression," &c.

"It is ordinarily VERY handsome," said he, with such a leer at a couple
of passers-by, that one of them cried, "Oh, crikey, here's a
precious guy!" and a child, in its nurse's arms, screamed itself
into convulsions. "Oh, oui, che suis tres-choli garcon, bien peau,
cerdainement," continued Mr. Pinto; "but you were right. That--that
person was not very well pleased when he saw me. There was no love
lost between us, as you say; and the world never knew a more worthless
miscreant. I hate him, voyez-vous? I hated him alife; I hate him dead.
I hate him man; I hate him ghost: and he know it, and tremble before me.
If I see him twenty tausend years hence--and why not?--I shall hate him
still. You remarked how he was dressed?"

"In black satin breeches and striped stockings; a white pique waistcoat,
a gray coat, with large metal buttons, and his hair in powder. He must
have worn a pigtail--only--"

"Only it was CUT OFF! Ha, ha, ha!" Mr. Pinto cried, yelling a laugh,
which I observed made the policeman stare very much. "Yes. It was cut
off by the same blow which took off the scoundrel's head--ho, ho, ho!"
And he made a circle with his hook-nailed finger round his own yellow
neck, and grinned with a horrible triumph. "I promise you that fellow
was surprised when he found his head in the pannier. Ha! ha! Do you ever
cease to hate those whom you hate?"--fire flashed terrifically from his
glass eye, as he spoke--"or to love dose whom you once loved. Oh, never,
never!" And here his natural eye was bedewed with tears. "But here we
are at the 'Gray's-inn Coffee-house.' James, what is the joint?"

That very respectful and efficient waiter brought in the bill of fare,
and I, for my part, chose boiled leg of pork and pease-pudding, which my
acquaintance said would do as well as anything else; though I remarked
he only trifled with the pease-pudding, and left all the pork on the
plate. In fact, he scarcely ate anything. But he drank a prodigious
quantity of wine; and I must say that my friend Mr. Hart's port-wine is
so good that I myself took--well, I should think, I took three glasses.
Yes, three, certainly. HE--I mean Mr. P.--the old rogue, was insatiable:
for we had to call for a second bottle in no time. When that was gone,
my companion wanted another. A little red mounted up to his yellow
cheeks as he drank the wine, and he winked at it in a strange manner. "I
remember," said he, musing, "