pamphlet, which had given rise to much discussion in the House, the question having been brought forward by Lord Normanby.

At midnight George Bowyer and I were ushered into the great English statesman's study. Ten or twelve persons were present. I was seated between Lord Palmerston and my Mentor.

The head of the Foreign Office turned to me and said

"So you have come to England to convert us all to Papacy? Your pamphlet has occasioned most extraordinary polemics! But a great many people who have just come from Italy say that you have exaggerated the facts."

"My lord," said I, "I have only come to London because it is the capital of the one country where one can write the truth without trembling. I am not trying to convert, I only seek to make things clear. And, my lord, what proves to me that I have hit the nail on the head is the fact that the Turin Cabinet, with all its salaried organs, has as yet commissioned no one to defend it. And I know that those same organs were forbidden to mention the subject."

One of those present, whose name I did not know, exclaimed

"But I was in Italy in 1846, and have just come

back from there. I consider the change advantageous.

At this English argument, forgetting that I was surrounded by great men, I asked

"In what province of Italy were you ? George Bowyer took hold of my arm, for I had begun to gesticulate.

"At Parma," said my adversary.

Then, notwithstanding the presence of His Grace, I answered

"Either you were blind in 1846, or you are so now. Let our hearers decide the point." And, without pausing, I said almost angrily -"Before the usurpation of the Sardinian King, the Duchy of Parma was governed by the Duchess de Bourbon. Being Regent, she had Ambassadors, Consuls, a Chamber of Deputies, a State's Council, and Ministers. All the strangers who passed through Parma stayed there for at least a while. Although I am not here to lecture on political economy, I do not exaggerate when I say that all these people spent at least one hundred thousand francs a week. Well, gentlemen, do you know what is spent now? Exactly one franc fifty centimes per day! Because those who made the money circulate so freely have been sent away, and are replaced by the porter who opens and shuts the door of the ducal palace. This,

gentlemen, is only one side of the picture. Here is the other In 1859 there was not a single exile, and the prisons were almost empty; in 1861 the prisons are full to overflowing, and ostracism is the order of the day. And the peasant who formerly paid five francs in taxes now pays fifty!"

Lord Palmerston, who had not lost a word of my picture, said

"I believe all you say, but our newspapers and our agents at Turin and Rome have told us nothing like it."

"Your newspapers," said I, "have sold themselves to the revolution, and your Minister at Turin only sends you information procured by the Piedmontese Ministers."

At these words, spoken in rather a loud tone, the Prime Minister rose. George Bowyer and I took our leave out of regard for the friend of Pius IX. Palmerston accompanied us as far as the door. Then, with truly Corsican boldness, I asked

"Will your Grace permit me to ask one question before I go?

"What is it?" said Palmerston.

"How long will Victor Emmanuel be King of Italy ?"

"As long as his money lasts."

These were the last words which I was destined to hear from the lips of the man whose death was a

great misfortune. I do not know what he really thought of the opinions which I had expressed with so much energy and so little education.*

*The theories exposed by the author are not very well grounded, but it may be remarked that they are exactly those which the Catholic party were trying to spread amongst the ignorant populations of Italy. This is explained by the fact that Baron de Rimini was at that time in the service of the Catholic party.

CHAPTER XXI.

MISS HOWARD.

ON a certain foggy evening, such as there are in London, a man was walking up and down in the Haymarket. He was a little over five feet in height, with very short legs, long body, livid face, small eyes, moustaches, coat buttoned all the way up, and carrying a loaded cane in his hand. Had it not been for his hat the passers-by might have taken him for a policeman. All at once a door opened and gave passage to an elegantly dressed lady whose wide crinoline nearly upset our hero. Holding on to a pillar of the Theatre Royal, he exclaimed

"What, Madame ! alone so late? and in such bad weather!"

And without waiting for an invitation he followed the lady. They passed Leicester Square, Prince's Street, and Charlotte Street, until they came to Number 277, Oxford Street, where the English