and notwithstanding the potency of your Scamperley ale, Sir Guy, we
manage to arrive pretty safe at our destination."

"Quite right, Mr. Waxy," vociferated Sir Guy. "Did I ever tell you
what happened to me once, when I took it into my head to drive my own
chariot home? Look ye here, sir, I'll tell you how it was. I was
unmarried then, Mr. Waxy, and as innocent as a babe, d'ye see? Well,
sir, I'd been to a _battue_ at my friend Rocketer's; and what with
staying to dinner, and a ball and a supper afterwards, it was very
late before I started for Scamperley, and all the servants were drunk,
as a matter of course. Why, sir, when I came out of the house there
were my carriage and horses standing in the line with some dozen
others, and devil a soul to look after 'em. What should you have done,
Mr. Waxy? Sworn like a trooper, I'll warrant it!"

Mr. Waxy shook his head with an air of mild deprecation.

"Well, sir," continued Sir Guy, "I'll tell you what I did. I jumped on
the box, Sir, before you could say Jack Robinson. I put on my own
coachman's box-coat, Sir, and drove 'em home myself. Thinks I, 'I'll
give the rascals a precious benefit: they'll have to walk every mile
of the way'--nine miles, and as dark as pitch, Mr. Waxy, as dark as
pitch! Well, sir, I'd a London footman, who was a sharpish fellow, and
used to dissipation in general; he heard the carriage drive off, and
ran to catch it. I gave _him_ a pretty good breather as I rattled down
the avenue. The fellow puffed like a grampus when he got up behind,
making no doubt it was all right, and he hadn't been found out. The
horses knew they were going home, and it wasn't long before I pulled
up at my own door. Down gets John, all officiousness and alacrity to
make up for past enormities, and rings a peal that might waken the
dead. Directly he hears them beginning to unbar he opens the
carriage-door and looks in. No master! The day was just dawning. I
shall never forget the fellow's face as he looked up, mistaking me,
muffled as I was in my own livery, for his fellow-servant.

"'I always told you how it would be, Peter,' said he, turning up a
face of drunken wisdom; 'and now it's come to pass. The devil's been
and took Sir Guy at last; and if he's as wicious there as he's been
here, it's a precious bad bargain for both of 'em!'"

Poor Mr. Waxy was obliged to laugh, but he took his departure
immediately; and of course, directly there was a move, the ladies went
to bed.