ld have fired at me, you bloody-minded man?" I cried.

"If you go to that, you seemed mighty reckless with your stick," said
Dudgeon.

"Did I indeed? Well, well, 'tis all past history; ancient as King
Pharamond--which is another French word, if you cared to accumulate more
evidence," says I. "But happily we are now the best of friends, and have
all our interests in common."

"You go a little too fast, if you'll excuse me, Mr.----: I do not know
your name, that I am aware," said Dudgeon.

"No, to be sure!" said I. "Never heard of it!"

"A word of explanation----" he began.

"No, Dudgeon!" I interrupted. "Be practical; I know what you want, and
the name of it is supper. _Rien ne creuse comme l'emotion._ I am hungry
myself, and yet I am more accustomed to warlike palpitations than you,
who are but a hunter of hedge-sparrows. Let me look at your face
critically: your bill of fare is three slices of cold rare roast beef, a
Welsh rabbit, a pot of stout, and a glass or two of sound tawny port,
old in bottle--the right milk of Englishmen." Methought there seemed a
brightening in his eye and a melting about his mouth at this
enumeration.

"The night is young," I continued; "not much past eleven, for a wager.
Where can we find a good inn? And remark that I say _good_, for the port
must be up to the occasion--not a headache in a pipe of it."

"Really, sir," he said, smiling a little, "you have a way of carrying
things----"

"Will nothing make you stick to the subject?" I cried; "you have the
most irrelevant mind! How do you expect to rise in your profession? The
inn?"

"Well, I will say you are a facetious gentleman!" said he. "You must
have your way, I see. We are not three miles from Bedford by this very
road."

"Done!" cried I. "Bedford be it!"

I tucked his arm under mine, possessed myself of the valise, and walked
him off unresisting. Presently we came to an open piece of country lying
a thought downhill. The road was smooth and free of ice, the moonshine
thin and bright over the meadows and the leafless trees. I was now
honestly done with the purgatory of the covered cart; I was close to my
great-uncle's; I had no more fear of Mr. Dudgeon: which were all grounds
enough for jollity. And I was aware, besides, of us two as of a pair of
tiny and solitary dolls under the vast frosty cupola of the midnight;
the rooms decked, the moon burnished, the least of the stars lighted,
the floor swept and waxed, and nothing