'If I do, may I be----' The remainder of the sentence was lost, by the speaker removing in conversation with another, when Tom turn'd round. “O,” said Tom, “I thought I knew who it was--that is one of the greatest reprobates in conversation that I ever met with.” “And who is he?” “Why, I'll give you a brief sketch of him,” continued Dashall: “It is said, and I fancy pretty well known, ~168~~that he has retired upon a small property, how acquired or accumulated I cannot say; but he has married a Bar-maid of very beautiful features and elegant form: having been brought up to the bar, she is not unaccustomed to confinement; but he has made her an absolute prisoner, for he shuts her up as closely as if she were in a monastery--he never dines at home, and she is left in complete solitude. He thinks his game all safe, but she has sometimes escaped the vigilance of her gaoler, and has been seen at places distant from home.{1} 1 It is related of this gentleman, whose severity and vigilance were so harshly spoken of, that one day at table, a dashing young Military Officer, who, while he was circulating the bottle, was boasting among his dissipated friends of his dexterity in conducting the wars of Venus, that he had a short time back met one of the most lovely creatures he ever saw, in the King's Road; but he had learned that her husband so strictly confined and watched her, that there was no possibility of his being admitted to her at any hour. “Behave handsome, and I'll put you in possession of a gun that shall bring the game down in spite of locks, bolts and bars, or even the vigilance of the eyes of Argus himself.” “How? d----me if I don't stand a ten pound note.” “How! why easy enough; I've a plan that cannot but succeed-- down with the cash, and I'll put you up to the scheme.” No sooner said than done, and he pocketed the ten pound note. “Now,” said the hoary old sinner, little suspecting that he was to be the dupe of his own artifice: “You get the husband invited out to dinner, have him well ply'd with wine by your friends: You assume the dress of a Postman--give a thundering rap at her door, which always denotes either the arrival of some important visitor or official communication; and when you can see her, flatter, lie, and swear that her company is necessary to your existence--that life is a burden without her--tell her, you know her husband is engaged, and can't come--that he is dining out with some jolly lads, and can't possibly be home for some hours--fall at her feet, and say that, having obtained the interview, you will not leave her. Your friends in the mean time must be engaged in making him as drunk as a piper. That's the way to do it, and if you execute it as well as it is plann'd, the day's your own.” “Bravo, bravo!” echoed from every one present.