He was about to cut the sergeant short, when his eye fell on a gentleman walking along Piccadilly, his manner uncertain, his eyes shifting as if he sought something out. Let—it—fall. " "Don't stir, or they'll chain you to the wall," said his mother detaining him. Melusine made no reply. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. ” “Very sad—very sad indeed,” he remarked uneasily.
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