To this she agreed. Not a little flattered to appear in such a correspondence, she heard with evident pleasure the contents of the letter to M. le Commissaire de Police. An open note which I enclosed for the youth himself, in order to show him that there was no intention of bringing him into difficulty, had likewise the full approbation of the concierge, who took the dispatch herself directly to the post office.

During the evening I found myself forming all manner of schemes for my proposed protegé, and these evening reveries turned into night dreams, and when I awoke in the morning, my head was equally full of them. Doubts as to whether my application to the police at Barège would, or would not be successful, gave me no little anxiety. However, to cut the matter short, the second morning after it was sent, the concierge greeted me on my return from Raillière, with the news that the young stilt-dancer had actually arrived.

"Where is he?" said I.

"He is at his old lodging, Madame. The poor youth in his eagerness, has walked the whole twenty-nine kilometres at one stretch. He could find no sort of conveyance by which even to send his stilts and violin, and is so fatigued that he has been obliged to lie down to rest. himself."

I told Marie not to disturb him, but only to bring him to me when he was quite recovered.

All the morning he did not appear; but after dinner, as I was sitting down to the pianoforte, the door opened and he entered the room. He was dressed in the same cap and the same jacket and hose of embroidered velvet, in which I had seen him before. His waistcoat was of snowy whiteness and his shirt-front widely displayed. On nearer view, it was evident that the use of the brush had worn away much of the nap of the velvet, and that much care and order were required to preserve its elegant appearance.

As he there stood before me, I did not think he could be more than fourteen years of age. His face, however, looked older. It was by no means regular or handsome and it was totally deficient in the careless serenity of boyhood. The melancholy of his pale face disappeared only when he spoke. His bright blue eyes then darkened with inward emotion and imparted to his countenance a delightful and animated expression.

The manners of the young Basque were genteel and modest. He had none of that clownish shyness which people of his caste often have; and when I desired him to take a seat near me, he did so at once with an easy air of self-confidence.

"Now, my young friend," said I, placing some refreshment before him, "I suppose you were rather surprised at a summons through the police to return to Cauterets ?"

"Indeed Madame," replied my youthful guest, "it was quite a shock to me, it having never happened to me before in my life. An unusual number of strangers passed through Luz yesterday, and I danced and played with much success; but it was a very fatiguing day and the three and a-half francs I gained were very hardly earned. Luz, you know, Madame, lies nine kilometers from Barèges and over a long steep hill, and what with playing and dancing, and the walking eighteen kilometres, I was so tired that I could hardly creep back to Barèges, laden as I was with my stilts and violin. I only got back at eleven at night, and found my father in much anxiety about me. I slept soundly till the sun was pretty high next morning, and no doubt my father would have let me rest still longer, but for the message from the police officer. I could scarcely wake myself, and it fell on my head like a lump of lead when the words, 'Get up, child, the commissaire de police has sent for you, God knows what you have been doing,' saluted my ear. The fright brought me to myself, and I dressed with all haste, not that I knew of any cause, but it often happens that people are sent away for some caprice of the commissaire."

"At any rate your apprehensions did not last long," said I. "That I allow," he replied, taking my letter out of his pocket and blushing. "I had never received a letter before, and it was only in consequence of this being addressed, 'To the young stilt-dancer,' that I could claim it as my own. But I cannot believe that the concierge wrote it."

"No, she did not, certainly; I wrote it in her name."

"What! Did you write two such beautiful letters only to see me ?” cried the youth, in apparent wonderment.

"Certainly, for by means of the police commissaire only was there any chance of their reaching your hands. Your playing and your dancing pleased me much, and having heard that you support your parents and that you have been robbed of your earnings here, I thought I might perhaps be of some use to you. How much did you lose?"

"Fourteen francs, all that I had gained in Pierrefitte and here," replied the poor lad with a sorrowful face; "and in this part of the country I can hardly hope to succeed much longer, as everyone has heard and seen me so often."

"I did not send for you," said I, "to dance and play, but in order to ask some particulars of your life and home and of the Landes."

"I have freqnently been in the neighbourhood of Bazas and Mont du Marsen," replied the youth, "and I there learnt to use the stilts, but I do not come from the Basque country."

"From what part then?"

"I can hardly tell you where I was really born, nor can I remember any stated home. We have been always on the move from one country VOL. VI.

to another and from one town to another, but principally in France, for my mother was from Bordeaux."

"And she is dead?"

"No, not dead, but three years have passed since we lost her, and I know this, because my little Alexander could not then walk alone and caused us great trouble."

"And who is your little Alexander?"

"He is my youngest brother, and is now with my father at Barèges." "And is your father also from Bordeaux ?"

"Oh no, he is a German, and was born at Munich in Bavaria.” "Then it was from him, no doubt, that you learned to play so well, and so much German music?"

"Yes, Madame. Before he became so ill, my father had a great talent for the violin, and good engagements in large cities were always at his command. Sometimes when he is sadder than usual, he tells me how he regrets that he gave up so promising a career, and says that he attributes our present distress to his imprudent resolution."

"Why did he give up his profession then?"

"From his love for my mother. When my father was a young and unmarried man, he had an engagement at the Grand Opera at Bordeaux, and at that time there was a very fine horse circus in that city. Among the many amazons engaged in it was a young girl named Estella, and she was remarkable above them all for her beauty and her skill in the circus. Many rich and even noble suitors crowded around her, but this did not prevent my father from conceiving a mad passion for her, and he offered her his heart. The young and admired beauty accepted the love of the poor violinist, but made it a condition of their marriage that she should not abandon her profession, but that he should give up his, and as soon as they should have saved the necessary capital, he should establish a circus of his own. I suppose my mother's good connexions must have helped them with what was required, for I have heard that shortly after my birth my parents set out with a tent and a stud of horses, as directors of a travelling troop. The good prospects with which they began this kind of life did not, however, last long and my earliest recollections are of a catastrophe, since which our affairs have always been getting from bad to worse."

"And will you not tell me what that catastrophe was ?" said I, seeing that this sorrowful remembrance seemed to have entirely overcome him.

At last he replied

"Ah Madame, although my father has always treated me with the greatest confidence, I have never been able to prevail on him to relate to me the full particulars of this sad event, of which the very mention seems still to overwhelm him with grief. All I know, therefore, is from

my own young recollection, and as I could not have been above four years old at the time, that recollection can yield but a confused and imperfect account. All that I remember is this :

"One evening my mother was to appear for the first time as the goddess of the chase, Diana. Oh, it was a beautiful performance! With her quiver on her shoulder, and her bow and arrow in hand, she assumed many a graceful attitude as she rode a fiery steed in full gallop round the ring. Her flowing robe, looped up to give more freedom to her limbs, was covered with glittering spangles which glanced at every ray which her companion, Apollo, cast upon her.

"The delight and applause of the audience had risen to their highest point, when a suffocating smoke and a dreadful cry of fire threw the whole theatre into a paroxysm of dismay. The flames soon attained an uncontrollable height, and the timbers of the building began to crack, and then to fall, while the shrieks and cries of the people and the snorting and winnying of the frightened horses made an impression upon my infant mind, which as long as I live will remain uneffaced. I still seem to feel, as my mother rescued me from a heavy beam that had fallen across me, the convulsive pressure of her arm, the pricking of the spangles, and the warmth of her lightly-covered breast and of the large cloth mantle which she had snatched up and thrown over her shoulders, probably for our protection from the flames.

"With rapid steps she bore me out of the circus, round which the fire now raged, and I perfectly remember her laying me in a little chariot which had been saved from the fire, and covering me up warmly, telling me at the same time not to leave the place on any account, and promising to return as soon as possible. Frightened and fatigued, and perhaps hurt by the beam under which I had lain, I scarcely saw her hurry away before I fell fast asleep.

"It was bright daylight when I awoke. I found myself in the same carriage, but it was now in motion and drawn by an old horse at a very slow pace. My mother sat beside me. The horse on which she had ridden in her last performance was tied behind our carriage, and I recollect amusing myself by grasping his soft nose as often as he stretched it towards me, in the hope, no doubt, of the pieces of bread or of sugar he had been used to receive. My mother, however, checked me in my playful humour, for she saw only poverty and care before her.

"Our little caravan halted not far from the walls of a city. Never shall I forget that evening, when my father, with the small wreck of his property, came up with us. He overwhelmed my mother with the bitterest reproaches. She burst into tears. The cause of this dreadful scene is still unknown to me.

"I also had my childish troubles; for I had henceforth no pretty

garden in which to play with my little companions, and in which we could tumble about at our ease and liberty.

"My father, however, has told me that after that catastrophe he was never again able to establish a company.

"Thanks to the beauty and skill of my mother and the varied talents of my father, my parents did not find any difficulty in obtaining good engagements in another equestrian troop. But the increase of her family soon prevented my mother from gaining her share of its support, and therefore the older I got, the worse became our circumstances." "You have, then, other brothers beside your little Alexander ?” said I.

"One brother and two sisters," replied the youth, "Alfonso is in Pau, the two girls in situations near Tarbes, but they earn scarcely anything, and I have frequently money to find for all three, for I am the eldest, you know, Madam."

"And even you cannot be above fifteen?" asked I, although his manners were much beyond that age.

"Excuse me, dear lady," said my little violinist, with an air of being aggrieved by my low estimate of his years, "I shall be seventeen next birthday. I am often taken to be younger, but my being so weaklylooking is owing to the misfortunes I have had to bear from my infancy. "My mother, who at that time still continued to exercise her profession, wished to bring me up to it also, and it is still fresh in my memory that I played several little parts of cherubs and cupids, in which characters I was subjected to many break-neck evolutions. But no sooner was my brother Alfonso old enough and tall enough to take my place, than my father emancipated me from these feats, by declaring that I must devote myself to another branch of art. He believed that I had latent musical talent. He purchased a little violin for me, and kept me with an iron rule to the incessant study of that instrument.

"During a halt which we made in the Landes, I made trial of the stiltwalking, which was almost universal there. The pliability of limb which I had acquired in riding on horseback, was very useful to me in this exercise, and I was able in a very short time to join stilt-dancing to my violin-playing, and to acquire a fair share of skill in both."

"Doubtless you have made many more distant journeys?" said I to the young artist.

"Certainly, Madame," said he, pursuing his narration with new vigour, "I have travelled through France, Germany, Switzerland, Holland, and Belgium, and I have even been in England! Ah, that country pleased me most of all. In London I obtained an engagement in a large theatre called, if I mistake not, Covent Garden. That was indeed a pleasure! The stage was so elastic, and the building so fine for sound, that the highest note from the violin was heard all over the