Here the listener who was none other than the Scotch student, a little fume of a fellow, blond as tow, congratulated in the liveliest fashion with the young gentleman and, interrupting the narrative at a salient point, having desired his visavis with a polite beck to have the obligingness to pass him a flagon of cordial waters at the same time by a questioning poise of the head (a whole century of polite breeding had not achieved so nice a gesture) to which was united an equivalent but contrary balance of the bottle asked the narrator as plainly as was ever done in words if he might treat him with a cup of it.  Mais bien sur, noble stranger, said he cheerily, et Mille compliments.  That you may and very opportunely.  There wanted nothing but this cup to crown my felicity.  But, gracious heaven, was I left with but a crust in my wallet and a cupful of water from the well, my God, I would accept of them and find it in my heart to kneel down upon the ground and give thanks to the powers above for the happiness vouchsafed me by the Giver of good things.  With these words he approached the goblet to his lips, took a complacent draught of the cordial, slicked his hair and, opening his bosom, out popped a locket that hung from a silk riband, that very picture which he had cherished ever since her hand had wrote therein.  Gazing upon those features with a world of tenderness, Ah, Monsieur, he said, had you but beheld her as I did with these eyes at that affecting instant with her dainty tucker and her new coquette cap (a gift for her feastday as she told me prettily) in such an artless disorder, of so melting a tenderness, ’pon my conscience, even you, Monsieur, had been impelled by generous nature to deliver yourself wholly into the hands of such an enemy or to quit the field for ever.  I declare, I was never so touched in all my life.  God, I thank thee, as the Author of my days!  Thrice happy will he be whom so amiable a creature will bless with her favours.  A sigh of affection gave eloquence to these words and, having replaced the locket in his bosom, he wiped his eye and sighed again.  Beneficent Disseminator of blessings to all Thy creatures, how great and universal must be that sweetest of Thy tyrannies which can hold in thrall the free and the bond, the simple swain and the polished coxcomb, the lover in the heyday of reckless passion and the husband of maturer years.  But indeed, sir, I wander from the point.  How mingled and imperfect are all our sublunary joys.  Maledicity! he exclaimed in anguish.  Would to God that foresight had but remembered me to take my cloak along!  I could weep to think of it.  Then, though it had poured seven showers, we were neither of us a penny the worse.  But beshrew me, he cried, clapping hand to his forehead, tomorrow will be a new day and, thousand thunders, I know of a Marchand de CAPOTES, Monsieur Poyntz, from whom I can have for a livre as snug a cloak of the French fashion