eir forces to add romance and vividness to the festive scene.

There had been dancing and flirtation, upon which those of the guests who
did not join gazed for an hour or so as they sat in the chairs arranged
around the walls, doubtless enjoying themselves intensely, and the gaiety
was at its height, when some commotion became manifest at one of the
doors. Those grouped about it appeared to be startled at finding
something or somebody behind them, and almost immediately it was seen
that this something or somebody was bent upon crowding past them. A loud,
insane-sounding laugh was heard. The dancers stopped and turned towards
it with one accord, their alarm and astonishment depicted on their faces.
The spectators bent forward in their seats.

"What is it?" was the general exclamation. "Oh! Oh!"

This last interjection took the form of a chorus as two of the group at
the doorway were pushed headlong into the room, and a tall, unsteady,
half-dressed figure made its violent entrance.

At the first glance it was not easy to recognize it; it was simply the
figure of a very tall man in an ungirt costume, composed of shirt and
pantaloons. He was crushed and dishevelled. His hair hung over his
forehead. He strode into the middle of the quadrille, and stood with his
hands in his pockets, swaying to and fro, with a stare at once malicious
and vacant.

"Oh," he remarked, sardonically, as he took in his surroundings, and then
everyone recognized at once that it was Colonel De Willoughby, and that
Colonel De Willoughby was mad drunk.

He caught sight of Major Beaufort, and staggered towards him with another
frantic laugh.

"Good God, Major," he cried; "how becomin' 'tis, how damned becomin'.
Harem an' all. Only trouble is you're too fat--too fat; if you weren't so
fat wouldn't look such a damned fool."

It was to be regretted there was no longer an air of refinement about his
intoxication, no suggestion of melancholy grace, no ghost of his usual
high-bred suavity; with his laugh and stare and unsteady legs he was
simply a more drunken lunatic than one generally sees.

There was a rush at him from all sides--Major Beaufort, in his Turkish
trousers, being the first to fall upon him and have his turban stamped
upon in the encounter. He was borne across the room, shouting and
struggling and indulging in profanity of the most frightful kind. Just as
they got him to the door his black boy Neb appeared, looking ashen with
fright.