Having arranged affairs at the barrack, and called on Sir F. Lyons, the British commandant, we betook ourselves to our billet at the Hôtel de Commerce, which, however, we had some difficulty in finding. As this was the first large hotel we had been in, it had the recommendation of novelty, and everything in it became subject of curiosity. The large dreary hall; the comfortless bar adjoining, and separated from it by an immense window or glazed partition, so unlike the cheerful snug-looking bar of an English inn; the equally comfortless and gloomy saloon behind it, into which we were shown; the squalid, dirty appearance of the domestics (men or boys), in filthy cotton jackets and _bonnets de nuit_,--all served to chill one on first entering. Our arrival, followed by orderlies and servants carrying portmanteaus, &c. &c., caused a sensation in the establishment, every member of which, not excepting the _chêf_, was assembled to greet us in the hall. For some minutes a scene of bustle ensued, which ended in mounting the stairs to inspect our dormitories. These contrasted strangely with the vast apartments below. From the head of the staircase a long corridor ran right and left the whole length of the house, off which a number of doors opened into as many little cells, each barely large enough to contain bed, chair, and a small table. The beds (without curtains) were very homely, but quite clean, the furniture and utensils of the commonest kind. The attendants, having shown us our rooms, withdrew, and with the sound of their departing footsteps ended the bustle of the day. When I again stepped out on the gallery, the stillness of the place astonished me--hall, staircase, bar, all deserted; not a soul to be seen, nor a sound heard except that of my own tread over the creaking floor; no ringing of bells; no calls for chambermaid, boots, or waiter; no running to and fro;--in short, the place appeared altogether abandoned, and I hastened into the street to lounge away the time until dinner, of which, however, I had my misgivings.