” The conversation hung. He was halfway across the ballroom, where the dancing had ceased for the musicians to take a well-earned rest, when Roding pounced on him. On the same day, moreover, which, by a curious coincidence, was the birthday of the Chevalier de Saint George, mobs were collected together in the streets, and the health of that prince was publicly drunk under the title of James the Third; while, in many country towns, the bells were rung, and rejoicings held, as if for a reigning monarch:—the cry of the populace almost universally being, "No King George, but a Stuart!" The adherents of the Chevalier de Saint George, we have said, were lavish in promises to their proselytes. "No matter how much I tell of myself, I shall always keep something back. ’ ‘Je m’en moque. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment. "Put your arms about me. Not all of us, but some of us. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions.
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