proached until it seemed to be actually in the adjoining room. It sounded like a band of curious instruments, played by a number of persons, and they played a slow and solemn march, very much like those familiar ones, the 'Dead March in Saul,' and 'See the Conquering Hero Comes,' blended together. The band ceased, and after a short pause commenced another tune, a more lively air and an extremely pretty one, and I thought I recognised the sound of voices accompanying the instruments. After a few more tunes the music began to recede, the performers playing a quick march, and I was left to my own reflections.
My protector made his appearance at last; his serenity if not his cheerfulness, had returned, and, except for the fiery redness of his eyes, no observer could tell that anything more grave than usual had happened to him. He told me that the great conqueror who had crushed me was much better, and had expressed his regret at having caused me additional discomfort. He hoped to have the pleasure of meeting me at his next battle, and would certainly make me a Marshal of his Empire on the field. 'You are quite a hero with most of them already,' continued the Doctor with a laugh. They saw you in the Demon's carriage, and think you are somebody who is going to do great things and become famous, and if you do you'll have all the world bowing and scraping to you. Julius Cæsar wants you, and promises to make you a conqueror. Alexander the Great says that if you are placed on his staff, you shall have the honour of polishing his armour and boots. But perhaps you are famous already; are you a poet?'
'A poet, Doctor?' I replied; 'why nearly everybody writes poetry; but if a man wants to be famous, he must go in for breeding rams and bulls.'
'Recite me a verse or two of you composition; it will cheer me up; I am in low spirits.'
