Cousin Tom looked very much as if there was something he did want, yet was backward to speak. "Why," said he, "I suppose by this time you can get into Toulouse. I wish you would make inquiries; try and find me some--But never mind; it's of no use. The ball will be extracted this evening, and to-morrow I shall go in myself." "Nonsense, nonsense; I'll go this instant." "Don't be too sure of that, though," said Tom. "Yesterday morning I tried it. Told the servant to have my mule ready; got my things on while the doctor was sawing away on the other floor; slipped down stairs; gave him the go-by. Mounted--rode to the top of the hill--was riding down into the city--almost rode into a French piquet." "No fear of that now, Tom; the city is ours. I saw the French troops marching out. Come, tell us, old fellow. What is it you fancy? Anything the doctor sanctions, you know. A quarter of mutton?--a dozen of pigeons?--some prime French sausages?--a bushel or so of oysters? What do you say to a brace of biddies?" "Oh, no!--oh, no!" said Tom, as if the very mention of biddies made him sick. "We were always in advance; got fowls and turkeys till we hated the sight of them." "Any dish from a French cuisine, then?" "Oh, no--oh, no! Nothing French, nothing Frenchified. What I want, if it's to be got at all, is not to be got good, except in England--or the West Indies." "Well, but, you know, Bordeaux is open; West India produce has come into the country by ship-loads. What is it? Come, just tell us, old chap, and I'll go and get it for you at once, if it's to be had in Toulouse." Tom was not so well as he looked; and there was evidently something for which, like other sick persons, he was inwardly pining. Now that I had held out a prospect of its attainment, his cheek flushed, and his eye gleamed with feverish eagerness. "Well, then," said Tom, "I wish you would try and get me--but it's no use; it's a shame to bother you.--I say, though, can you spare the time? Have you really nothing to do? Upon your honour?--I've been longing for them, day and night, ever since I got here. Oh, if you could only get me--some tamarinds!" His eye, while he spoke, fixed full on mine. He watched my countenance with the anxiety of a dying man when he makes his last request. "I'll be off and try this instant," said I, though really fearing there was little chance of success. "Oh, thank you--thank you!" cried Cousin Tom. I was going. "Here--here! Come back! I want to speak to you!" I returned. "Old fellow," said Tom, with a coaxing, eager grin, "make haste now, will you? Bring 'em directly--that's a good chap." "Well, but, you know--if tamarinds can't be had for love or money, is there nothing else?" "No, stupid--no! Tamarinds, I say; get me some tamarinds. What did I tell you? Didn't I tell you tamarinds? Now then; what are you waiting for? Cut away, and be hanged to you! Be off!--be off!"