By "him" he meant the tenant of the room, who lay on a narrow bed asleep. Before disturbing him, Mr. Fox-Cordery devoted attention to the articles by which he was surrounded. The furniture of this humble attic was extraordinary of its kind, and had probably been picked up at odd times, in one auction-room and another. On the floor was an old Oriental rug, worn quite threadbare; the two chairs were antiques; the carved legs of the table represented the legs of fabulous animals; even the fire-irons were old-fashioned. There were several brackets on the walls, carved by the sleeping man, showing a quaint turn of fancy; and on each bracket rested an article of taste, here a small Eastern vase, here a twisted bottle, here the model of a serpent standing upright on two human legs. A dealer in old curiosities would not have given more than a sovereign or two for all the furniture and ornaments in the room, for none of them were of any particular value. But the collection was a remarkable one to be found in an attic in such a neighborhood; and, if it denoted nothing else, was an indication that the proprietor was not of the common order of English workingmen, such as one would have expected to occupy the apartment; if, indeed, he was an Englishman at all. Mr. Fox-Cordery was not a gentleman of artistic taste, and he turned up his nose and shrugged his shoulders contemptuously at these belongings. Then he devoted a few moments more to an examination of the room, opening drawers without hesitation, and running his eyes over some manuscripts on the table. The written characters of these manuscripts were exquisite, albeit somewhat needlessly fantastic here and there: and the manuscripts themselves furnished a clew to the occupation of the tenant, which was that of a copyist. There were no paintings or engravings on the walls, which, however, were not entirely devoid of pictorial embellishment. Four neatly cut pieces of drawing-paper were tacked thereon--north, south, east, and west--bearing each a couplet beautifully written within an illuminated scroll. The colors of the scrolls were green and gold, and the verses were written in shining Indian ink. On the tablet on the north wall the lines ran: He whose soul by love is quickened, never can to death be hurled; Written is my life immortal in the records of the world. On the south wall: Oh, heart! thy springtime has gone by, and at life's flowers has failed thy aim. Gray-headed man, seek virtue now; gain honor and a spotless name. On the west wall: Now on the rose's palm the cup with limpid wine is brimming, And with a hundred thousand tongues the bird her praise is hymning. On the east wall: If all upon the earth arise to injure myself or my friend, The Lord, who redresses wrong, shall avenge us all in the end.