housestood，atthetailofamuddycab-rank，ontheshoresofawidethoroughfareofmud，offeringtofancyafaceofambiguousinvitation。Imightbereceived，Imightoncemorefillmybellythere；ontheotherhand，itwasperhapsthisdaytheboltwasdestinedtofall，andImightbeexpelledinstead，withvulgarhubbub。Itwaspolicytomaketheattempt，andI
knewitwaspolicy；butIhadalready，inthecourseofthatonemorning，enduredtoomanyaffronts，andIfeltIcouldratherstarvethanfaceanother。Ihadcourageandtospareforthefuture，noneleftforthatday；courageforthemaincampaign，butnotasparkofitforthatpreliminaryskirmishofthecabman’srestaurant。Icontinuedaccordinglytosituponmybench，notfarfromtheashesofNapoleon，nowdrowsy，nowlight-headed，nowincompletementalobstruction，oronlyconsciousofananimalpleasureinquiescence；andnowthinking，planning，andrememberingwithunexampledclearness，tellingmyselftalesofsuddenwealth，andgustfullyorderingandgreedilyconsumingimaginarymeals：inthecourseofwhichImusthavedroppedasleep。
ItwastowardsdarkthatIwassuddenlyrecalledtofaminebyacoldsouseofrain，andsprangshiveringtomyfeet。ForamomentIstoodbewildered：thewholetrainofmyreasoninganddreamingpassedafreshthroughmymind；Iwasagaintempted，drawnasifwithcords，bytheimageofthecabman’seating-house，andagainrecoiledfromthepossibilityofinsult。
“Quidortdine。”thoughtItomyself；andtookmyhomewardwaywithwaveringfootsteps，throughrainystreetsinwhichthelampsandtheshop-windowsnowbegantogleam；stillmarshallingimaginarydinnersasIwent。
“Ah，MonsieurDodd。”saidtheporter，“therehasbeenaregisteredletterforyou。Thefacteurwillbringitagainto-morrow。”
Aregisteredletterforme，whohadbeensolongwithoutone？
Ofwhatitcouldpossiblycontain，Ihadnovestigeofaguess；
nordidIdelaymyselfguessing；farlessformanyconsciousplanofdishonesty：theliesflowedfrommelikeanaturalsecretion。
“O。”saidI，“myremittanceatlast！WhatabotherIshouldhavemissedit！Canyoulendmeahundredfrancsuntilto-morrow？”
Ihadneverattemptedtoborrowfromtheportertillthatmoment：theregisteredletterwas，besides，mywarranty；andhegavemewhathehad——threenapoleonsandsomefrancsinsilver。Ipocketedthemoneycarelessly，lingeredawhilechaffing，strolledleisurelytothedoor；andthenfastasmytremblinglegscouldcarrymeroundthecornertotheCafedeCluny。Frenchwaitersaredeftandspeedy；theywerenotdeftenoughforme；andIhadscarcedecencytoletthemansetthewineuponthetableorputthebutteralongsidethebread，beforemyglassandmymouthwerefilled。ExquisitebreadoftheCafeCluny，exquisitefirstglassofoldPomardtinglingtomywetfeet，indescribablefirstoliveculledfromthehorsd’oeuvre——Isuppose，whenIcometoliedying，andthelampbeginstogrowdim，Ishallstillrecallyoursavour。Overtherestofthatmeal，andtherestoftheevening，cloudsliethick；
cloudsperhapsofBurgundy；perhaps，moreproperly，offamineandrepletion。
Irememberclearly，atleast，theshame，thedespair，ofthenextmorning，whenIreviewedwhatIhaddone，andhowIhadswindledthepoorhonestporter；and，asifthatwerenotenough，fairlyburntmyships，andbroughtbankruptcyhometothatlastrefuge，mygarret。Theporterwouldexpecthismoney；
Icouldnotpayhim；herewasscandalinthehouse；andIknewrightwellthecauseofscandalwouldhavetopack。“Whatdoyoumeanbycallingmyhonestyinquestion？”Ihadcriedthedaybefore，turninguponMyner。Ah，thatdaybefore！thedaybeforeWaterloo，thedaybeforetheFlood；thedaybeforeIhadsoldtheroofovermyhead，myfuture，andmyself-respect，foradinnerattheCafeCluny！
Inthemidstoftheselamentationsthefamousregisteredlettercametomydoor，withhealingunderitsseals。ItborethepostmarkofSanFrancisco，wherePinkertonwasalreadystrugglingtotheneckinmultifariousaffairs：itrenewedtheofferofanallowance，whichhisimprovedestatepermittedhimtoannounceatthefigureoftwohundredfrancsamonth；andincaseIwasinsomeimmediatepinch，itenclosedanintroductorydraftforfortydollars。Thereareathousandexcellentreasonswhyaman，inthisself-helpfulepoch，shoulddeclinetobedependentonanother；butthemostnumerousandcogentconsiderationsallbowtoanecessityassternasmine；
andthebankswerescarceopenerethedraftwascashed。
ItwasearlyinDecemberthatIthussoldmyselfintoslavery；
andforsixmonthsIdraggedaslowlylengtheningchainofgratitudeanduneasiness。AtthecostofsomedebtImanagedtoexcelmyselfandeclipsetheGeniusofMuskegon，inasmallbuthighlypatrioticStandardBearerfortheSalon；whitheritwasdulyadmitted，whereitstoodtheproperlengthofdaysentirelyunremarked，andwhenceitcamebacktomeaspatrioticasbefore。IthrewmywholesoulasPinkertonwouldhavephraseditintoclocksandcandlesticks；thedevilacandlestick-makerwouldhaveanythingtosaytomydesigns。
EvenwhenDijon，withhisinfinitegoodhumourandinfinitescornforallsuchjourney-work，consentedtopeddletheminindiscriminatelywithhisown，thedealersstilldetectedandrejectedmine。Hometheyreturnedtome，trueastheStandardBearer；whonow，attheheadofquitearegimentoflesseridols，begantogrowaneyesoreinthescantystudioofmyfriend。DijonandIhavesatbythehour，andgazeduponthatcompanyofimages。Thesevere，thefrisky，theclassical，theLouisQuinze，werethere——fromJoanofArcinhersoldierlycuirasstoLedawiththeswan；nay，andGodforgivemeforamanthatknewbetter！thehumorouswasrepresentedalso。Wesatandgazed，Isay；wecriticised，weturnedthemhitherandthither；evenupontheclosestinspectiontheylookedquitelikestatuettes；andyetnobodywouldhaveagiftofthem！
Vanitydieshard；insomeobstinatecasesitoutlivestheman：
butaboutthesixthmonth，whenIalreadyowedneartwohundreddollarstoPinkerton，andhalfasmuchagainindebtsscatteredaboutParis，Iawokeonemorningwithahorridsentimentofoppression，andfoundIwasalone：myvanityhadbreathedherlastduringthenight。Idarednotplungedeeperinthebog；Isawnohopeinmypoorstatuary；Iownedmyselfbeatenatlast；andsittingdowninmynightshirtbesidethewindow，whenceIhadaglimpseofthetree-topsatthecorneroftheboulevard，andwherethemusicofitsearlytrafficfellagreeablyuponmyear，IpennedmyfarewelltoParis，toart，tomywholepastlife，andmywholeformerself。“Igivein。”I
wrote。“Whenthenextallowancearrives，IshallgostraightoutWest，whereyoucandowhatyoulikewithme。”
ItistobeunderstoodthatPinkertonhadbeen，inasense，pressingmetocomefromthebeginning；depictinghisisolationamongnewacquaintances，“whohavenoneofthemyourculture。”hewrote；expressinghisfriendshipintermssowarmthatitsometimesembarrassedmetothinkhowpoorlyIcouldechothem；dwellinguponhisneedforassistance；andthenextmomentturningabouttocommendmyresolutionandpressmetoremaininParis。“Onlyremember，Loudon。”hewouldwrite，“ifyoueverDOtireofit，there’splentyofworkhereforyou——honest，hard，well-paidwork，developingtheresourcesofthispracticallyvirginState。AndofcourseIneedn’tsaywhatapleasureitwouldbetomeifweweregoingatitSHOULDER
TOSHOULDER。”ImarvellookingbackthatIcouldsolonghaveresistedtheseappeals，andcontinuetosinkmyfriend’smoneyinamannerthatIknewhimtodislike。Atleast，whenI
didawaketoanysenseofmyposition，Iawoketoitentirely；
anddeterminednotonlytofollowhiscounselforthefuture，butevenasregardsthepast，torectifyhislosses。ForinthisjunctureofaffairsIcalledtomindthatIwasnotwithoutapossibleresource，andresolved，atwhatevercostofmortification，tobeardtheLoudonfamilyintheirhistoriccity。
IntheexcellentScots’phrase，Imadeamoonlightflitting，athingneverdignified，butinmycaseunusuallyeasy。AsIhadscarceapairofbootsworthportage，Idesertedthewholeofmyeffectswithoutapang。DijonfellheirtoJoanofArc，theStandardBearer，andtheMusketeers。HewaspresentwhenI
boughtandfrugallystockedmynewportmanteau；anditwasatthedoorofthetrunkshopthatItookmyleaveofhim，formylastfewhoursinParismustbespentalone。ItwasaloneandatafarhigherfigurethanmyfinanceswarrantedthatI
discussedmydinner；alonethatItookmyticketatSaintLazare；allalone，thoughinacarriagefullofpeople，thatI
watchedthemoonshineontheSeinefloodwithitstuftedislets，onRouenwithherspires，andontheshippingintheharbourofDieppe。Whenthefirstlightofthemorningcalledmefromtroubledslumbersonthedeck，Ibeheldthedawnatfirstwithpleasure；IwatchedwithpleasurethegreenshoresofEnglandrisingoutofrosyhaze；Itookthesaltairwithdelightintomynostrils；andthenallcamebacktome；thatIwasnolongeranartist，nolongermyself；thatIwasleavingallIcaredfor，andreturningtoallthatIdetested，theslaveofdebtandgratitude，apublicandabrandedfailure。
Fromthispictureofmyowndisgraceandwretchedness，itisnotwonderfulifmymindturnedwithrelieftothethoughtofPinkerton，waitingforme，asIknew，withunweariedaffection，andregardingmewitharespectthatIhadneverdeserved，andmightthereforefairlyhopethatIshouldneverforfeit。Theinequalityofourrelationstruckmerudely。Imusthavebeenstupid，indeed，ifIcouldhaveconsideredthehistoryofthatfriendshipwithoutshame——I，whohadgivensolittle，whohadacceptedandprofitedbysomuch。IhadthewholedaybeforemeinLondon，andIdeterminedatleastinwordstosetthebalancesomewhatstraighter。Seatedinthecornerofapublicplace，andcallingforsheetaftersheetofpaper，Ipouredforththeexpressionofmygratitude，mypenitenceforthepast，myresolutionsforthefuture。Tillnow，Itoldhim，mycoursehadbeenmereselfishness。Ihadbeenselfishtomyfatherandtomyfriend，takingtheirhelp，anddenyingthemwhichwasalltheyaskedthepoorgratificationofmycompanyandcountenance。
Wonderfularetheconsolationsofliterature！Assoonasthatletterwaswrittenandposted，theconsciousnessofvirtueglowedinmyveinslikesomerarevintage。
Ireachedmyuncle’sdoornextmorningintimetositdownwiththefamilytobreakfast。Morethanthreeyearshadintervenedalmostwithoutmutationinthatstationaryhousehold，sinceIhadsattherefirst，ayoungAmericanfreshman，bewilderedamongunfamiliardainties，Finnanhaddock，kipperedsalmon，bapsandmuttonham，andhadweariedmymindinvaintoguesswhatshouldbeunderthetea-cosey。Iftherewereanychangeatall，itseemedthatIhadriseninthefamilyesteem。Myfather’sdeathoncefittinglyreferredto，withaceremoniallengtheningofScotchupperlipsandwaggingofthefemalehead，thepartylaunchedatonceGodhelpmeintothemorecheerfultopicofmyownsuccesses。Theyhadbeensopleasedtohearsuchgoodaccountsofme；Iwasquiteagreatmannow；wherewasthatbeautifulstatueoftheGeniusofSomethingorother？“Youhaven’tithere？nothere？Really？”asksthesprightliestofmycousins，shakingcurlsatme；asthoughitwerelikelyIhadbroughtitinacab，orkeptitconcealedaboutmypersonlikeabirthdaysurprise。Inthebosomofthisfamily，unaccustomedtothetropicalnonsenseoftheWest，itbecameplainthe_SundayHerald_andpoor，bletheringPinkertonhadbeenacceptedfortheirface。Itisnotpossibletoinventacircumstancethatcouldhavemoredepressedme；andIamconsciousthatIbehavedallthroughthatbreakfastlikeawhiptschoolboy。
Atlength，themealandfamilyprayersbeingbothhappilyover，IrequestedthefavourofaninterviewwithUncleAdamon“thestateofmyaffairs。”Atsoundofthisominousexpression，thegoodman’sfaceconspicuouslylengthened；andwhenmygrandfather，havinghadthepropositionrepeatedtohimforhewashardofhearingannouncedhisintentionofbeingpresentattheinterview，IcouldnotbutthinkthatUncleAdam’ssorrowkindledintomomentaryirritation。Nothing，however，buttheusualgrimcordialityappeareduponthesurface；andweallthreepassedceremoniouslytotheadjoininglibrary，agloomytheatreforadepressingpieceofbusiness。Mygrandfatherchargedaclaypipe，andsattremulouslysmokinginacornerofthefirelesschimney；behindhim，althoughthemorningwasbothchillanddark，thewindowwaspartlyopenandtheblindpartlydown：Icannotdepictwhatanairhehadofbeingoutofplace，likeamanshipwreckedthere。UncleAdamhadhisstationatthebusinesstableinthemidst。