Happily for me there is a limit to all human efforts, and even _his_ powers at length succumbed; so that, when we arrived at Bristol, I persuaded him to go to bed, and I once more was left to the enjoyment of some quiet. To fill up the few hours which intervened before bedtime, I strolled into the coffee room. The English look of every one, and everything around, had still its charm for me; and I contemplated, with no small admiration, that air of neatness and propriety so observant from the bright-faced clock that ticked unwearily upon the mantelpiece, to the trim waiter himself, with noiseless step and a mixed look of vigilance and vacancy. The perfect stillness struck me, save when a deep voice called for “another brandy-and-water,” and some more modestly-toned request would utter a desire for “more cream.” The attention of each man, absorbed in the folds of his voluminous newspaper, scarcely deigning a glance at the new-comer who entered, was in keeping with the general surroundings,--giving, in their solemnity and gravity, a character of almost religious seriousness, to what, in any other land, would be a scene of riotous and discordant tumult. I was watching all this with a more than common interest, when the door opened, and the waiter entered with a large placard. He was followed by another with a ladder, by whose assistance he succeeded in attaching the large square of paper to the wall above the fireplace. Every one about rose up, curious to ascertain what was going forward; and I myself joined in the crowd around the fire. The first glance of the announcement showed me what it meant; and it was with a strange mixture of shame and confusion I read:-- “_Fall of Ciudad Rodrigo: with a full and detailed account of the storming of the great breach, capture of the enemy’s cannon, etc., by Michael Free, 14th Light Dragoons_.” Leaving the many around me busied in conjecturing who the aforesaid Mr. Free might be, and what peculiar opportunities he might have enjoyed for his report, I hurried from the room and called the waiter. “What’s the meaning of the announcement you’ve just put up in the coffee-room? Where did it come from?” “Most important news, sir; exclusively in the columns of the ‘_Bristol Telegraph_,’--the gentleman has just arrived--” “Who, pray? What gentleman?” “Mr. Free, sir, No. 13--large bed-room--blue damask--supper for two--oysters--a devil--brandy-and-water-mulled port.” “What the devil do you mean? Is the fellow at supper?” Somewhat shocked by the tone I ventured to assume towards the illustrious narrator, the waiter merely bowed his reply. “Show me to his room,” said I; “I should like to see him.” “Follow me, if you please, sir,--this way. What name shall I say, sir?” “You need not mind announcing me,--I’m an old acquaintance,--just show me the room.”