brother, Richard Bazancourt, had passed through Paris only the preceding evening en route to Fontainebleau; but, as he had not stayed in Paris longer than for the purpose of changing horses, and was not anxious to display the hoarded treasure of his Isabelle's beauty, even to his brother's eyes, Lord Fletcher was ignorant even of the fact of his having passed through, and imagined him to be still in England whither he knew that he had but lately returned.

It was past nine in the evening, and beginning to be dusk, when in proceeding along this distant part of the Boulevards, Lord Fletcher's ear was startled by the shrieks of an old woman near him; and at the same time distinguished clearly the growling of a dog, and the well-known syllables of "Sacrés chiens d'Anglais "-which appeared now to be more literally applied than usual by the easily recognizable voice of poor old Madame Boivin.

Fletcher, who happened to carry in his hand a huge knobbed stick, and who was indignant at any violence being offered, even accidentally, to the mother of his late friend, ran quickly to the spot, and beneath a lamp, he discovered the unfortunate old lady, still struggling with the thick-headed and ferocious animal, which had sprung upon her as she

was walking quietly along, and still hung to her thigh, glaring round him with his savage eyes so fiercely that no one dared approach, and snarling threats of vengeance on whoever should venture to touch his brindled sides. His large, broad forehead, and the lankness of his greyhound tail, betrayed at once that it was an English bull-dog. Lord Fletcher raised his walking-stick, which happened to be charged with lead at the knob end; and wielding it with all his force round his head, struck the animal upon the left side, just in the region of the heart: several of his ribs broke, and the vessels of the heart probably burst beneath the blow; as he instantly relaxed his hold, and staggering back, fell dead upon the pavement. An English groom coming up, threatened Fletcher audibly with the vengeance of his master; but Fletcher paying no attention, and occupied with the old lady, hurried her, still screaming and swearing, into a fiacre, and left poor Griffin dead upon the pavement.

CHAPTER IX.

THE following morning, about eleven o'clock, Lord Fletcher was sitting in his own apartments;-the breakfast was still upon the table. He was attired in deep mourning, which he had assumed ever since the death of poor Louis Boivin, out of the deep respect which he felt for his unhappy memory. His thoughts were wandering occasionally to the strange event of last night, from the occupation with which he was apparently engaged at the table. Spread before him, on his desk, were one or two essays on musical subjects, which he had some idea of preparing for the press. There was a dissertation on Rousseau's plan for a new notation and general reform of music: there was another treatise, in which he undertook to prove that all the great composers had taken their finest subjects from common popular melodies. He had proved that Bishop's "Come, love, to me," was iden

tical with a slow movement in one of Spohr's quartetts; that Haydn had borrowed "The heavens are telling," from "Sweet lass of Richmond Hill," and Moore's "Watchman," was an adagio version of "All round my hat." His violin and bow were lying on the table with the breakfast things, and the knobbed stick of the yesternight was deposited against one corner of the fireplace. A knock at the door was heard, and Mr. Earthstopper Brush Fivebars entered.

"Well, Fivebars, my dear fellow," exclaimed Fletcher, "if you are come for a cigar, I really don't think I have one left in the house, but I will send for some immediately."

Fivebars, however, looked serious, and appeared to hesitate as to the manner in which he should introduce the subject of his visit.

"I am not come," he replied, "Lord Fletcher, this morning, I am sorry to say, with any such agreeable object. I fear the message I have been requested to deliver to you, will cause you some trouble and some little uneasiness, but I have no doubt that the whole business can be arranged amicably. You are aware of the circumstances to which I allude?"

Lord Fletcher professed his entire ignorance of the object of this strange beginning.

"Well, then," continued Fivebars, "you remember, I suppose, your having struck and killed Lord Clanelly's favourite dog, Griffin, last night?”

"Lord Clanelly's dog!" exclaimed Fletcher in surprise" I had no idea that it was Lord Clanelly's dog; but whether it were his or any other man's, I could not have done otherwise, and if the same circumstances were to recur to-night, I should feel myself obliged to do exactly the same thing."

"This is unpromising," replied Fivebars, "but nevertheless I trust that you will reconsider the subject. It is surely not worth while to make a serious quarrel about a dog."

"I should have thought not," answered Lord Fletcher, "but will you point out to me how it is to be avoided? I have certainly no reasons for wishing to avoid a quarrel with Lord Clanelly-rather the contrary; and if he be bent upon quarrelling, I am sure I don't see how it is possible for me to help it."

Simply by allowing me to make any sort of apology to Lord Clanelly, in your name. I don't require any writing; merely commission me to deliver any expression of regret, which you like to adopt:-allow me to say for you that you are sorry that such an accident should have occurred. It is nothing more