That night I started from Bologne. I could no more have endured to stop there, conscious that the town contained my persecutor, than I could have flown. Accordingly, after a hurried breakfast, I proceeded to arrange what little business I had to transact; and this completed, away I posted to the well-known shop of Monsieur ----, dentist, perruquier, and general agent to the steam-packet company. Fortunately the little man was at home, and received me with his usual courtesy. He was very, very sorry that he could not stay to converse with me, but a patient in the inner parlour required his immediate attendance; he must therefore--. I entreated him not to apologize; my business was simple--it was merely to ascertain at what hour the first packet sailed; and having so said, and received a satisfactory reply, I prepared to quit the shop, when just as I was turning round to shut the door, I caught a glimpse through the half-closed curtains that shaded the inner room of a cheek and one eye. The cheek was swollen, and a solitary patch of snuff rested, like a fly, upon its surface. It was the Mysterious Tailor; he had come in to have his tooth pulled out. Notwithstanding my anxiety to quit Bologne, it was evening before I was on board the packet; nor did I feel myself at ease, until the heights had dwindled to a speck, and the loud carols of the fishermen returning home from their day's sport, had sunk into a faint, undistinguished whisper. Our vessel's course for the first hour or so was delightful. Towards night, the weather, which had hitherto proved so serene, began to fluctuate; the wind shifted, and gradually a heavy swell came rolling in from the north-east towards us. As the hour advanced, a storm seemed advancing with it; and a hundred symptoms appeared, the least of which was fully sufficient to certify the coming on of a tremendous hurricane. Our captain, however--a bronzed, pinched-up little fellow, whom a series of north-westers seemed to have dried to a mummy--put a good face on the matter, and our mate whistled bluffly, though I could not help fancying that his whistle had something forced about it.