ng: it is, that you will honestly tell me
afterwards how it has been received."

"That I pledge my word to. Where do you stop in Paris?"

"At the Windsor."

"Well, you shall have a despatch from me, or see myself there, by
Saturday evening; one or the other I swear to."

"Agreed. I'll not wish you success, for that would be hypocritical, but
I 'll wish you well over it!" And with this speech, uttered in a tone
of jeering sarcasm, Heathcote said good-bye, and departed.

CHAPTER XXII. THE PUBLIC SERVANT ABROAD.

We scarcely thought that the distinguished public servant, Mr. Ogden,
was likely to occupy once more any portion of our readers' attention;
and yet it so fell out that this useful personage, being on the
Continent getting up his Austria and Northern Italy for the coming
session, received a few lines from the Earl of Sommerville, half
mandatory, half entreating, asking him to find out the young Marquis of
Agincourt, and take him back with him to England.

Now the Earl was a great man, for he was father-in-law of a Cabinet
Minister, and related to half the leaders of the party, so that Mr.
Ogden, however little the mission suited his other plans, was fain at
once to accept it, and set out in search of his charge.

We need not follow him in his pursuit through Lombardy and the
Legations, down to Tuscany and Lucca, which latter city he reached at
the close of a cold and dreary day of winter, cheered to him, however,
by the certainty that he had at length come up with the object of his
chase.

It was a habit with Quackinboss, whenever he sent out Layton's servant
on an errand, to leave the house door ajar, that the sick man might not
be disturbed by the loud summons of the bell; and so on the evening in
question was it found by Mr. Ogden, who, after some gentle admonitions
by his knuckles and some preparatory coughs, at last groped his way
into the interior, and eventually entered the spacious sitting-room.
Quackinboss had dined, and was seated at his wine beside an ample
fireplace, with a blazing wood-fire. An old-fashioned screen sheltered
him from the draught of the ill-fitting windows, while a comfortable
buffalo rug was stretched under his feet. The Colonel was in his second
cigar, and in the drowsy mood of its easy enjoyment, when the harsh
accents of Mr. Ogden's voice startled him, by asking, "Can you inform me
if Lord Agincourt lives here?"

"You 're a Britisher now, I expect?" said the Colone