tasy, while he muttered a malediction between his teeth.

"Miladi has made submission, and I forgive everything. You must pardon
all the trouble I 've given you."

"These happy tidings have made me forget it," said he, with a smile
that verged upon a grin. "Peste!" growled he, under his breath, "we 'd
unpacked the whole fourgon."

"Ah, que vous etes aimable!" said she, sighing.

"Belle tigresse!" exclaimed he, returning the leer she bestowed; and the
window was once more closed upon her exit. "I submitted to the labor,
in the hope we had done with you forever," said he, wiping his forehead;
"and la voila there you are back again. Throw that ape down; away wid
him, cursed beast!" cried he, venting his spite upon the minion, since
he dare not attack the mistress. "But what have we here?"

This latter exclamation was caused by the sudden entrance into the
courtyard of two porters carrying an enormous trunk, whose iron
fastenings and massive padlock gave it the resemblance of an emigrant's
sea-chest. A few paces behind walked Mr. Dalton, followed again by Old
Andy, who, with a huge oil-silk umbrella under one arm, and a bundle
of cloaks, shawls, and hoods on the other, made his way with no small
difficulty.

Gregoire surveyed the procession with cool amazement, and then, with a
kind of mock civility, he touched his cap, and said, "You have mistak de
road, saar; de diligenz-office is over de way."

"And who told you I wanted it?" said Dalton, sternly. "Maybe I'm just
where I ought to be! Isn't this Sir Stafford Onslow's coach?"

"Yes, saar; but you please to remember it is not de 'Eil wagen. '"

"Just hold your prate, my little chap, and it will be pleasanter, and
safer, ay, safer, too, d'ye mind? You see that trunk there; it 's to
go up with the luggage and be kept dry, for there 's valuable effects
inside."

"Datis not a trunk; it is a sentry-house, a watch-box. No gentleman's
carriage ever support a ting of dat dimension!"

"It 's a trunk, and belongs to me, and my name is Peter Dalton, as the
letters there will show you; and so no more about it, but put it up at
once."

"I have de orders about a young lady's luggage, but none about a great
coffin with iron hoops," said Gregoire, tartly.

"Be quiet, now, and do as I tell you, my little chap. Put these trifles,
too, somewhere inside, and this umbrella in a safe spot; and here 's a
little basket, with a cold pie and a bottle of wine in it."

"Himmel und Erd