With which words--words which terrified the little damsel profoundly--Sir Asinus folded his arms, and in this position, with a sad scowl upon his face, passed forth into the night. As he reached the door of the Raleigh, he perceived Mrs. Wimple and one or two elderly ladies getting into a chariot; and behind them Jacques leading Belle-bouche triumphantly toward his small two-seated vehicle. Jacques was radiant, and this the reader may possibly understand, if he will recollect the scheme of this gentleman--to address Belle-bouche where no fate could interrupt him. As Sir Asinus passed on, frowning, Jacques cast upon that gentleman a look which expressed triumphant happiness. "You won't interrupt me on my way back, will you?" he said, smiling; "eh, my dear Sir Asinus?" Sir Asinus ground his teeth. Belle-bouche was safely stowed into the vehicle--Jacques gathered up the reins, was about to get in--when, disastrous fate! the voice of Mrs. Wimple was heard, declaring that the night had grown too cool for her beloved niece to ride in the open air. Sir Asinus lingered and listened with sombre pleasure. In vain did Jacques remonstrate, and Belle-bouche declare the night delightful: Aunt Wimple, strong in her fears of night air, was inexorable. So Belle-bouche with a little pout got down, and Jacques cursing his evil stars, assisted her into the chariot. Would he not come in, and spend the night at Shadynook?--they could make room for him by squeezing, said Aunt Wimple. No, no, he could not inconvenience them--he would not be able to stay at Shadynook--he hoped they would have a pleasant journey; and as the chariot rolled off, the melancholy Jacques gazed after it with an expression of profound misery. He felt a hand upon his shoulder; he turned and saw Sir Asinus. But Sir Asinus was not deriding him--he was groaning. "Let us commit suicide," said the knight, in gloomy tones. Jacques started. "Suicide!" "The night is favorable, and my hopes are dead, like yours," said Sir Asinus, gloomily. "That is enough to kill at one time," said the melancholy Jacques; "mine are not--animation is only suspended. On the whole, my dear friend, I am opposed to your proposition. Good night!" And Jacques, with a melancholy smile, departed. Sir Asinus, with a gesture of despair, rushed forth into the night. Whether that gentleman had been reading romances or not, we cannot say; but as he disappeared, he bore a strong resemblance to a desperate lover bent on mischief.