“Only from hearsay, Colonel.  Madame Du Plessis is said to be in straightened circumstances, and I learn, from several quarters, that Miss Du Plessis is an attractive and amiable young lady; ‘illigant’ is what a countryman of mine, who served under her father, termed his young mistress.”

“And her baptismal name, suh?”

“Is Cecile, I think.”

“Ah, to be suah, my deah wife’s name, Cecilia, gallicized.  She and Madame Du Plessis were Castilians of Lima.  Du Plessis was theah in the ahmy, I in commehcial puhsuits, and we mahhied the sistahs, the belles of the Rimac.

     Que’ es la vida?  Un frenesi
     Que’ es la vida?  Una ilusion,
     Una sombra, una ficcion.

You read Spanish, Mr. Wilkinson?”

“A little, sir; I think I recognize Calderon in these lines.”

“Right, Mr. Wilkinson; I thank you, suh, foh yoah pleasing companionship.  Good evening, gentlemen!” With a courtly bow, the colonel retired from the table.

At the coloured barber’s the pedestrians met Mr. Maguffin, who greeted Coristine, saying:—­

“Hopes yoh doan feel none the wuhse ob yoh ride on the po-ul,” adding:  “Mistah Poley, what runs this yeah stablishment, he’s my nuncle’s oldes’ boy, and he abstracks a cohnah ob the same ter my disposhul foh ohfice pupposes, supposin’ I’m wahnted by folks as cahn’t find me.”

“That’s very convenient,” replied the lawyer, as he settled down in the barber’s chair.

“It am, sah.  I doan’ tote ox teams no moah, po-ul nor no po-ul, when I kin drive and ride the fasses and sassies hawses that is made; no, sah, not much!”

“You are tired of teaming, then?”

“I am wohn out, sah, wif bein’ called Toby and a po-ul-cat.  I doan find no Scripcher reffunce foh Tobias, and yoh know what a po-ul-cat is; it’s nuffin moah no less nor a skink.”

The victims of the barber and his assistant kept the soap out of their mouths with difficulty.  As his tormentor deserted him for a moment, the schoolmaster remarked that the Iroquois about the Lake of the Two Mountains called the Trappist monks there by the same savoury name, on account of some fancied resemblance between their dress and the coat of the Mephitis Americana.

Mr. Maguffin was listening intently, thinking the conversation was meant for his edification, and politely interposed:—­

“No, sah, I ain’t no Mefferdis.  I was bawn and raised a Baktis.  Poley, now, he’s a Mefferdis, and I ain’t a gwine ter speak no harm of no Crishtchun bruddern what’s tryin’ ter do right accordin’ ter they lights.  But ter be called Toby and Poul-cat by low down white tresh, that trial ob the flesh and speerut is a fohgone conclusion, sah.”

The shaving operation completed, the travellers returned to the hotel, and found Colonel Morton on what he called the piazza, smoking a good Havana cigar.  He opened his case for his companions of the supper table, and Coristine accepted, while Wilkinson courteously declined.