" It will give me my death of cold, Madame!" said Monsieur Margot, earnestly.

"Bah!" said the Englishwoman : "what knight ever feared cold? Besides, you mistake; the night is warm, and you look so handsome in your gown."

"Do I!" said the vain Monsieur Margot, with an iron expression of satisfaction; "if that is the case, I will mind it less; but may I return by the door?"

"Yes," replied the lady; "you see that I do not require too much from your devotion enter."

"Behold me !" said the French master, inserting his body into the basket, which immediately began to descend.

The hour and the police of course made the street empty; the lady's handkerchief waved in token of encouragement and triumph. When the basket was within five yards of the ground, Mrs. Greene cried to her lover, who had hitherto been elevating his serious countenance towards her, in sober, yet gallant sadness

"Look, look, Monsieur - straight before you."

The lover turned round, as rapidly as his habits would allow him, and at that instant the window was shut, the light extinguished, and the basket arrested. There stood Monsieur Margot, upright in the basket, and there stopped the basket, motionless in the air.

What were the exact reflections of Monsieur Margot, in that position, I cannot pretend to determine, because he never favoured me with them; but about an hour afterwards, Vincent and I (who had been delayed on the road) strolling up the street, according to our appointment, perceived, by the dim lamps, some opake body leaning against the wall of Madame Laurent's house, at about the distance of fifteen feet from the ground.

We hastened our steps towards it; a measured and serious voice, which I well knew, accosted us

"For God's sake, gentlemen, procure me assistance; I am the victim of a perfidious woman, and expect every moment to be precipitated to

the earth."

"Good Heavens!" said I, " surely it is Monsieur Margot, whom I hear. What are you doing there?" "Shivering with cold," answered Monsieur Margot, in a tone tremulously slow.

"But what are you in? for I can see nothing but a dark substance."

" I am in a basket," replied Monsieur Margot, "and I should be very much obliged to you to let me out of it."

"Well-indeed," said Vincent, (for I was too much engaged in laughing to give a ready reply,) "your château-Margot has but a cool cellar. But there are some things in the world, easier said than done. How are we to remove you to a more desirable place."

"Ah," returned Monsieur Margot, "how, indeed! There is to be sure a ladder in the porter's lodge long enough to deliver me; but then, think of the gibes and jeers of the porter-it will get wind-I shall be ridiculed, gentlemen-I shall be ridiculed-and what is worse, I shall lose my pupils."

"My good friend," said I, “ you had better lose your pupils than your life; and the day-light will soon come, and then, instead of being ridiculed by the porter, you will be ridiculed by the whole street!"

Monsieur Margot groaned. "Go, then, my friend," said he, "procure the ladder! Oh, those she devils!-what could make me such a fool!"

While Monsieur Margot was venting his spleen in a scarcely articulate mutter, we repaired to the lodge -knocked up the porter, communicated the accident, and procured the ladder, However, an observant eye had been kept upon our proceedings, and the window above was re-opened, though so silently that I only perceived the action. The porter, a jolly, bluff, hearty-looking fellow, stood grinning below with a lanthorn, while we set the ladder (which only just reached the basket) against the wall.

The chevalier looked wistfully forth, and then, by the light of the lanthorn, we had a fair view of his ridiculous figure-his teeth chattered woefully, and the united cold without and anxiety within, threw a double sadness and solemnity upon his withered countenance; the night was very windy, and every instant a rapid current seized the unhappy sea-green vesture, whirled it in the air, and threw it, as if in scorn, over the very face of the unhappy professor. The constant recurrence of this sportive irreverence of the gales-the high sides of the basket, and the trembling agitation of the inmate, never too agile, rendered it a work of some time for Monsieur Margot to transfer himself from the basket to the ladder; at length, he had fairly got out one thin, shivering leg.

"Thank God!" said the pious professor-when at that instant the thanksgiving was checked, and, to Monsieur Margot's inexpressible astonishment and dismay, the basket rose five feet from the ladder, leaving its tenant with one leg dangling out, like a flag from a balloon.

The ascent was too rapid to allow Monsieur