’Your worship brings an affair to my remembrance which I had long since forgotten.  I have at present no other master than yourself, Monsieur Georges, for I shall always consider you as my master, though I may not enjoy the felicity of waiting upon you.’

‘You have left the Count, then,’ said I, ’after remaining three days in the house, according to your usual practice.’

‘Not three hours, mon maitre,’ replied Antonio; ’but I will tell you the circumstances.  Soon after I left you I repaired to the house of Monsieur le Comte; I entered the kitchen, and looked about me.  I cannot say that I had much reason to be dissatisfied with what I saw:  the kitchen was large and commodious, and everything appeared neat and in its proper place, and the domestics civil and courteous; yet, I know not how it was, the idea at once rushed into my mind that the house was by no means suited to me, and that I was not destined to stay there long; so, hanging my haversack upon a nail, and sitting down on the dresser, I commenced singing a Greek song, as I am in the habit of doing when dissatisfied.  The domestics came about me, asking questions.  I made them no answer, however, and continued singing till the hour for preparing the dinner drew nigh, when I suddenly sprang on the floor, and was not long in thrusting them all out of the kitchen, telling them that they had no business there at such a season.  I then at once entered upon my functions.  I exerted myself, mon maitre—­I exerted myself, and was preparing a repast which would have done me honour; there was, indeed, some company expected that day, and I therefore determined to show my employer that nothing was beyond the capacity of his Greek cook.  Eh bien, mon maitre, all was going on remarkably well, and I felt almost reconciled to my new situation when who should rush into the kitchen but le fils de la maison, my young master, an ugly urchin of thirteen years, or thereabouts.  He bore in his hand a manchet of bread, which, after prying about for a moment, he proceeded to dip in the pan where some delicate woodcocks were in the course of preparation.  You know, mon maitre, how sensitive I am on certain points, for I am no Spaniard, but a Greek, and have principles of honour.  Without a moment’s hesitation I took my young master by the shoulders, and hurrying him to the door, dismissed him in the manner which he deserved.  Squalling loudly, he hurried away to the upper part of the house.  I continued my labours, but ere three minutes had elapsed, I heard a dreadful confusion above stairs, on faisoit une horrible tintamarre, and I could occasionally distinguish oaths and execrations.  Presently doors were flung open, and there was an awful rushing downstairs, a gallopade.  It was my lord the count, his lady, and my young master, followed by a regular bevy of women and filles de chambre.  Far in advance of all, however, was my lord with a drawn sword in his hand, shouting, “Where is the wretch