"Thanky, sir, thanky, which it's very kind; but just a minute, sir. I wanted to tell you as I've quite done with the dorg business, and refused lots of commissions; and now, though I say it, as didn't oughter, there ain't a squarer shop in all London than this here. You'd hardly believe it, sir, but if I didn't sell that there Sergeant Falkner a canary bird and cage last week, I'm a Dutchman. Brings his missus with him to choose it, he does, and calls agen yesterday--no, the day afore--to say as it sings splendid, and shook hands when he went, quite friendly. But won't you take just a taste o' something before you go, sir? The missus will be put out at not seeing you; stepped out, she has, for a few potatoes. And how we have talked about you, surely! Look here, sir, here's the werry thing as I hung up in that winder as soon as he was found--and none too soon neither, for I was obligated to have my shutters up for a week, and they did smash half a dozen of the first-floor panes as it was. `There,' says I to the people, `don't you make no mistake: I ain't burked the gent as took it into his head to dress up and come to see--' But there! I won't say no more--and I hung out that, sir." As D. Wragg spoke, he produced a dusty, smoke and fly-stained card, upon which, in large type, was printed-- _THE GENT IS FOUND_. _HE WAS RUN OVER_ by A CAB!!! (Signed) D. Wragg. "That there cost me two-and-six, sir; but don't you make no mistake, it saved me one pound two and six in winders, and ever so much more in character. But is there anything in my way before you go, sir? Always happy to supply you, and can do a stroke of almost everything in natur', except dorgs, which, as I said afore, I've quite done with; for, you see, sir, dorgs ain't respectable, and don't do now." Harry had some difficulty in getting away without seeing Mrs D. Wragg; but he urged that his time was precious, and at last, after a hearty hand-shake, he was allowed to continue his way, thinking very deeply, as he wandered slowly on, till he reached a quiet little street near to that named after the great Northumbrian earl--a tame, empty, flat, and apparently, to a spectator, highly unprofitable, double row of houses, upon the door of one of which was a brass-plate bearing the words-- MONSIEUR CANAU, Professor of Music. Volume 3, Chapter XXV. VIVE L'AMOUR. "Yes, Mr Canau is at home," said a very mealy-faced girl, who replied to Harry Clayton's knock; and he was shown into a barely-furnished but neat parlour, to wait while, apparently, some lesson was being concluded in the back room, where a voice could be heard counting loudly:--"One, _two_, three; one, _two_, three;" and a duet between pianoforte and violin appeared to be in fierce progress. Then there was silence, a buzz of voices, and very tightly dressed, very fierce-looking--with his closely-cut hair, as he walked behind an enormous moustache,--the little exile entered.