. . . . . . I did as I was ordered; and on coming back found master in what's called, I think, the greffe of the prisn. The officer in waiting had out a great register, and was talking to master in the French tongue, in coarse; a number of poar prisners were looking eagerly on. “Let us see, my lor,” says he; “the debt is 98,700 francs; there are capture expenses, interest so much; and the whole sum amounts to a hundred thousand francs, moins 13.” Deuceace, in a very myjestic way, takes out of his pocketbook four thowsnd pun notes. “This is not French money, but I presume that you know it, M. Greffier,” says he. The greffier turned round to old Solomon, a money-changer, who had one or two clients in the prisn, and hapnd luckily to be there. “Les billets sont bons,” says he. “Je les prendrai pour cent mille douze cent francs, et j'espere, my lor, de vous revoir.” “Good,” says the greffier; “I know them to be good, and I will give my lor the difference, and make out his release.” Which was done. The poar debtors gave a feeble cheer, as the great dubble iron gates swung open and clang to again, and Deuceace stept out and me after him, to breathe the fresh hair. He had been in the place but six hours, and was now free again--free, and to be married to ten thousand a year nex day. But, for all that, he lookt very faint and pale. He HAD put down his great stake; and when he came out of Sainte Pelagie, he had but fifty pounds left in the world! Never mind--when onst the money's down, make your mind easy; and so Deuceace did. He drove back to the Hotel Mirabew, where he ordered apartmince infinately more splendid than befor; and I pretty soon told Toinette, and the rest of the suvvants, how nobly he behayved, and how he valyoud four thousnd pound no more than ditch water. And such was the consquincies of my praises, and the poplarity I got for us boath, that the delighted landlady immediantly charged him dubble what she would have done, if it hadn been for my stoaries. He ordered splendid apartmince, then, for the nex week; a carridge-and-four for Fontainebleau to-morrow at 12 precisely; and having settled all these things, went quietly to the “Roshy de Cancale,” where he dined: as well he might, for it was now eight o'clock. I didn't spare the shompang neither that night, I can tell you; for when I carried the note he gave me for Miss Griffin in the evening, informing her of his freedom, that young lady remarked my hagitated manner of walking and speaking, and said, “Honest Charles! he is flusht with the events of the day. Here, Charles, is a napoleon; take it and drink to your mistress.” I pockitid it; but, I must say, I didn't like the money--it went against my stomick to take it. CHAPTER IX. THE MARRIAGE. Well, the nex day came: at 12 the carridge-and-four was waiting at the ambasdor's doar; and Miss Griffin and the faithfle Kicksey were punctial to the apintment.