CHAPTER LI.
I hate a drunken rogue.--Twelfth Night.
We took an affectionate leave of Mr. Gordon, and found ourselves oncemore in the open air; the smoke and the purl had contributed greatly tothe continuance of our inebriety, and we were as much averse to bedas ever. We conveyed ourselves, laughing and rioting all the way, to astand of hackney-coaches. We entered the head of the flock, and drove toPiccadilly. It set us down at the corner of the Haymarket.
"Past two!" cried the watchman, as we sauntered by him.
"You lie, you rascal," said I, "you have passed three now."
We were all merry enough to laugh at this sally; and seeing a lightgleam from the entrance of the Royal Saloon, we knocked at the door, andit was opened unto us. We sat down at the only spare table in the place,and looked round at the smug and varment citizens with whom the room wasfilled.
"Hollo, waiter!" cried Tringle, "some red wine negus--I know not why itis, but the devil himself could never cure me of thirst. Wine and Ihave a most chemical attraction for each other. You know that we alwaysestimate the force of attraction between bodies by the force required toseparate them!"
While we were all three as noisy and nonsensical as our best friendscould have wished us, a new stranger entered, approached, looked roundthe room for a seat, and seeing none, walked leisurely up to our table,and accosted me with a--"Ha! Mr. Pelham, how d'ye do? Well met; by yourleave I will sip my grog at your table. No offence, I hope--more themerrier, eh?--Waiter, a glass of hot brandy and water--not too weak.D'ye hear?"
Need I say that this pithy and pretty address proceeded from the mouthof Mr. Tom Thornton. He was somewhat more than half drunk, and his lightprying eyes twinkled dizzily in his head. Dartmore, who was, and is,the best natured fellow alive, hailed the signs of his intoxication asa sort of freemasonry, and made way for him beside himself. I couldnot help remarking, that Thornton seemed singularly less sleek thanheretofore: his coat was out at the elbows, his linen was torn andsoiled; there was not a vestige of the vulgar spruceness about him whichwas formerly one of his most prominent characteristics. He had alsolost a great deal of the florid health formerly visible in his face;his cheeks seemed sunk and haggard, his eyes hollow, and his complexionsallow and squalid, in spite of the flush which intemperance spread overit at the moment. However, he was in high spirits, and soon made himselfso entertaining that Dartmore and Tringle grew charmed with him.
As for me, the antipathy I had to the man sobered and silenced me forthe rest of the night; and finding that Dartmore and his friend wereeager for an introduction to some female friends of Thornton's, whom hementioned in terms of high praise, I tore myself from them, and made thebest of my way home.