the old, palsied, stomach-voiced ostler came in
with a broken lantern, containing an expiring
candle-end.

"I've guv the two meares a quartern-a-
'arf an' three pennorth; but the old 'oss
seems hoff 'is feed, sir."

This was asthmatically said to Mr.
Burleigh,who replied at wonderful length for
him:

"No wonder, Sam, no wonder. I'm off my
feed myself."

The woman behind the bar shook her
head mournfully; the palsied ostler shook
las head more than usual (for it was
always shaking); and Mr. Burleigh, having
drained another glass of raw brandy, motioned
the ostler to lead on with the cracked lantern,
and departed from the bar without uttering
another word. I looked at the dowdy
woman for a moment, and learning from
her glance that I was to follow Mr.
Burleigh, and share the double-bedded room,
I did so without remonstrance, joining the
broken-down coach-proprietor, and the palsied
ostler.

We went under a low archway; past several
dunghills; over several of the liquorice-
coloured puddles; past some grunting pigs in
a sty, over many uneven saffron-coloured
stones, between a ruined mail-coach that
rested upon three wheels, and a waggon, that
to judge by the sound of heavy breathing
coming from it, was well peopled with sound
sleepers; up some old rotten steps, on to an
equally rotten gallery (the old ostler motioning
us to be careful of one or two doubtful
planks) under an open doorway into a large
square low-roofed room, that had the general
saffron-coloured appearance of the place, and
the same faint smell of tobacco and the
stables. It contained two beds, like tents,
the covering of which was of the tint of
parchment. One stood to the right near the
door; the other at the further end of the
room. Two bits of ragged carpet and two
rush-bottomed chairs, near the beds, one
high narrow washing-stand against the wall,
and a black, knotted looking-glass over the
fire-place completed the furniture. There
was only one window, which opened upon
the gallery outside the door.

I went to the bed at the further end of the
room, and threw myself upon it in my
clothes, amusing myself by watching Mr.
Burleigh.

"Sam," he said to the ostler, as he was
closing the door, " bring up a crust of bread
and cheese, and a pint of brandy."

In a few minutes Sam returned witli the
required refreshment. Upon a plate, beside
the small loaf and cheese, was a short
table-knife with a thick blade that had been worn
and cleaned down to a point, until it was like
a dagger. The old ostler closed the door,
and left us to our repose.

How long I remained lying there, watching
Mr. Burleigh, and at what precise moment I
drew the dingy, parchment-shaded curtains
of my tent-bed together, I cannot tell.
I had certainly fallen into a heavy sleep,
when I was aroused by the sound of a
loud deep voice. I peeped through the
closed curtain. The day, as far as I could
judge, was just beginning to break, for there
was a pale light in the room by which I saw
the tall figure of Mr. Burleigh standing up
in his shirt-sleeves with his back towards
me, and the short dagger-like cheese-knife
held aloft firmly in his right hand. He was
shouting loudly to the blank wall near the
door when I first looked at him, but he
immediately turned round towards me, and I
involuntarily shrank behind the curtain,
peeping through the smallest crevice I could
possibly command. He then commenced a
fierce plunging walk in a circle round the
centre of the room; his eyes nearly starting
from his head; his left arm contracted and
drawn back with the hand tightly clenched;
and his right hand making short, rapid, and
deadly stabs with the knife at some visionary
enemy whom he was chasing. The pent-up
silence of twenty years had at length broken
out in a violent fit of delirium tremens. Mr.
Burleigh could see it now with a vengeance.
His thick voice coming from his foaming
mouth, told that at every blow of the knife
in the air, he cut to pieces a whole board of
railway directors.

I kept my eye upon him through the closed
curtain, as for one hour, or more (which to me
seemed fifty years), he went unceasingly in
his circle round the room. Silently and
carefully I had moved the mattress of the bed,
and had it ready for a shield in the event of
his turning against me, which I momentarily
expected. I heartily wished at that instant
that I had never seen my nameless country
town, its trout, its inns, its coaches, or its
coach proprietors. I thought of the most
absurd and trifling incidents of my past life;
how I had once stolen a teetotum from a boy
at school; how I had been unnecessarily
cruel to the fish I had caught (although
acting strictly within sporting rules); how
I should have done much better by marrying
and settling down with the youngest
daughter of the landlady at the hotel of my
nameless country town, instead of neglecting
her, and her manifest partiality towards me,
and going into the smoking-room to indulge
in the savage luxury of gloating over the
unhappy man before me. I then asked
myself the most absurd conundrums, and replied
to them by giving the most absurd answers.
All this time the maniac broken-down coach-
owner was circling round and round in his
phrenzy, and making a noise that I trusted
every moment would arouse some of the
sleepers in the waggon in the yard, if it did
not reach the distant household. As I
watched I saw the door fall back upon its
lunges, and I thought my deliverance was at
hand. I was doomed to disappointment.