pace, resembling the zig-zag motion of a four footed animal, never obliged our hero to exert his own legs. They soon reached the front of the house, and Louis prepared to mount the flight of marble steps with all the speed of familiar acquaintance, when Sir Andrew, observing his intent, cried out, "Hist! Colonel! you must not enter by that door; my house-keeper, Mrs. Neate, would make a sad uproar if the steps and the hall were dirtied by our feet. This is the way-follow me."

The Baronet conducted Louis round the back of the house, to that part where the servant's entrance lay situated. He instantly dived into the passage, and requesting his son to be careful of his steps, mounted the staircase until he at length arrived at the landing place, leading to his apartments. Here the Baronet stopped, and drew forth a key from his pocket, with which he unlocked the

door of his chamber. "Ah! Colonel," said he, as they entered the room, “our patience has been severely tried both by land and water. But bless me! I must not stand talking here, while our clothes are reminding us by their chill, that we should drop their acquaintance for the present."

The Baronet opened a press, and pulled out a bundle of clothes, of all shapes and colors, and bidding his son select from them a suit for the present wear, began disrobing himself of his wet dress, and finished his toilette much about the same time that Louis had endeavoured to cover himself with the disproportioned articles offered for his temporary accommodation.

Having cast a glance at Louis, the Baronet could not help saying, "You must excuse my inability to offer you a suit more adapted to your size; my clothes hang vilely about your person, to

be sure; but William is a quick lad, and will soon fetch you a supply from the inn."

He rung the bell, and the servant who appeared to answer the summons, received our hero's order to bring a portmanteau containing every article necessary to enable him to appear before the female branch of the family with that figure as it is presumed, is proper in all

cases.

"Now, Colonel," said Sir Andrew, when the servant had departed to execute the commission, "if you will be pleased to step into the next room, I think I can entertain you until William comes back."

CHAPTER VIII.

For the dull world most honor pay to those,
Who on their understanding most impose.
First man creates, and then he fears, the Elf:
Thus others cheat him not, but he himself.
He loathes the substance, and he loves the show:
He hates realities, and hugs the cheat,
And still the only pleasure's the deceit.

GARTH.

THE room into which Sir Andrew ushered his guest, was termed the Sanctuarium, forin it were preserved his documents, memoranda, and books connected with his astrological studies. The furniture was scanty, consisting of three long tables, two chairs, and a stool; a proportion of chattels, which however unworthy of an auctioneer's notice, sufficed for our mighty astrologer, who, like the

major portion of the sons of Genius, never troubled his head with the thoughts of ornamenting this sacred retreat. The room had evidently never been disturbed by the operations of a broom for many years; for venerable cobwebs hung suspended from the ceiling, the work of our modern Arachnes, whose industrious efforts to ensnare their victims, seem to chide Nature for the manner in which she has taught her subjects to provide for themselves. Our hero stopped in the middle of the room, and seemed to wonder at the extreme dirtiness visible in all parts; but his notice was particularly attracted to a layer of sand, strewed inside a frame, the size of which was four feet in length, and two in width, and raised about one foot from the ground. Close at hand, lay three or four wands, made of willow, and each of them the length of six feet.

"This," said Sir Andrew, observing his son regarding the strange contrivance which in some respects resembled a new