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stairs, which he did with the assistance of James, who conducted him into his chamber.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, as he sank into a chair, "Sylvester, what an scape you have had!"

"I am anxious," said Sylvester, "of course, to know how, but wait till you are more composed."

"Jib," said Tom, "give me sobe braddy."

James looked at the bottle which stood by his side, and inquired if that contained brandy.

"Yes," replied Tom, "that's braddy, Jib."

James thought this strange—remarkably strange. He had never seen brandy in that room before. There were, moreover, sundry pieces of cigars lying about. He couldn't understand it at all! In fine, the whole of the circumstances of which he had become cognisant, since the noise above interfered with his repose, appeared to him to be a parcel of complicated mysteries. He did, notwithstanding, pour out a glass of brandy, and having handed it to his master, poured out another, and having handed that to Sylvester, put the bottle down.

"Pour out a glass for yourself," said Tom. And James did so, and drank it, and relished it much. "Add dow," added Tom, "go idto Mr. Soudd's roob, add bridg dowd his clothes."

Certainly, James thought it extremely correct that Sylvester should have his clothes, seeing that he had then nothing on but his shirt, while the night was not a hot one, nor anything like it. He therefore went up for the clothes in question, and having succeeded in bringing them down, Sylvester slipped them on.

"Dow," said Tom, "take adother glass, Jib, add thed be off to bed."

James liked the former part of this order much; but he didn't at all like the latter. He felt himself entitled to something bearing the semblance of an explanation! conscious of being—as far as all these most extraordinary circumstances were concerned—in the dark. He therefore stood and sipped, and sipped—in a manner, for him, unusual—until he found that no sort of an explanation would be vouchsafed, when—feeling that that kind of treatment was not exactly handsome—he indignantly finished his glass and withdrew.

"Syl, by dear boy," said Tom, "give be your hadd! You're alive, by boy; but your life was dot worth a bobedt's purchase. I was a fool, I kdow—a codsubbate fool—but I acted od the ibpulse of the bobedt."

"But how," inquired Sylvester; "how were you a fool? You said just now that you were wrong—very wrong! How were you wrong? In what respect?"

"I'll explaid. But first let us have just a little bore braddy. If ady bad had told be that I should ever have acted id a case like this with such bodstrous iddiscretiod, I should have felt disposed to kick hib. I ought to have kdowd better. The bost igdoradt bad alive would scarcely have beed guilty of so badifest ad act of folly."

"Well, but in what did this folly consist?"

"I'll tell you. You see these stridgs."