“At the Foring Office--NOW do you begin to understand?”--Jools trembled. He speaks of his uncle, the head of that office.--“Who IS the head of that offis?--Palmerston.” “The nephew of Palmerston!” said Jools, almost in a fit. “Lor Yardham pretends not to speak French,” the other went on. “He pretends he can only say wee and commong porty voo. Shallow humbug!--I have marked him during our conversations.--When we have spoken of the glory of France among the nations, I have seen his eye kindle, and his perfidious lip curl with rage. When they have discussed before him, the Imprudents! the affairs of Europe, and Raggybritchovich has shown us the next Circassian Campaign, or Sapousne has laid hare the plan of the Calabrian patriots for the next insurrection, I have marked this stranger--this Lor Yardham. He smokes, 'tis to conceal his countenance; he drinks gin, 'tis to hide his face in the goblet. And be sure, he carries every word of our conversation to the perfidious Palmerston, his uncle.” “I will beard him in his den,” thought Jools. “I will meet him corps-a-corps--the tyrant of Europe shall suffer through his nephew, and I will shoot him as dead as Dujarrier.” When Lor Yardham came to the “Constantanople” that night, Jools i'd him savidgely from edd to foot, while Lord Yardham replied the same. It wasn't much for either to do--neyther being more than 4 foot ten hi--Jools was a grannydear in his company of the Nashnal Gard, and was as brayv as a lion. “Ah, l'Angleterre, l'Angleterre, tu nous dois une revanche,” said Jools, crossing his arms and grinding his teeth at Lord Yardham. “Wee,” said Lord Yardham; “wee.” “Delenda est Carthago!” howled out Jools. “Oh, wee,” said the Erl of Yardham, and at the same moment his glas of ginawater coming in, he took a drink, saying, “A voternsanty, Munseer:” and then he offered it like a man of fashn to Jools. A light broak on Jools's mind as he igsepted the refreshmint. “Sapoase,” he said, “instedd of slaughtering this nephew of the infamous Palmerston, I extract his secrets from him; suppose I pump him--suppose I unveil his schemes and send them to my paper? La France may hear the name of Jools de Chacabac, and the star of honor may glitter on my bosom.” So axepting Lord Yardham's cortasy, he returned it by ordering another glass of gin at his own expence, and they both drank it on the counter, where Jools talked of the affaers of Europ all night. To everything he said, the Earl of Yardham answered, “Wee, wee;” except at the end of the evening, when he squeeged his & and said, “Bong swore.” “There's nothing like goin amongst 'em to equire the reel pronounciation,” his lordship said, as he let himself into his lodgings with his latch-key. “That was a very eloquent young gent at the 'Constantinople,' and I'll patronize him.”