mind we would walk. So we tramped some
four miles through the mud and fog, and finally found his "apartments";
they consisted of a single room over a barber's shop in a back street.
Two chairs, a small table, an ancient valise, a wash-basin and pitcher
(both on the floor in a corner), an unmade bed, a fragment of a
looking-glass, and a flower-pot, with a perishing little rose geranium
in it, which he called a century plant, and said it had not bloomed now
for upward of two centuries--given to him by the late Lord
Palmerston--(been offered a prodigious sum for it)--these were
the contents of the room. Also a brass candlestick and a part of a
candle. Rogers lit the candle, and told me to sit down and make myself
at home. He said he hoped I was thirsty, because he would surprise my
palate with an article of champagne that seldom got into a commoner's
system; or would I prefer sherry, or port? Said he had port in bottles
that were swathed in stratified cobwebs, every stratum representing a
generation. And as for his cigars--well, I should judge of them
myself. Then he put his head out at the door and called:

"Sackville!" No answer.

"Hi-Sackville!" No answer.

"Now what the devil can have become of that butler? I never allow a
servant to--Oh, confound that idiot, he's got the keys. Can't get into
the other rooms without the keys."

(I was just wondering at his intrepidity in still keeping up the
delusion of the champagne, and trying to imagine how he was going to get
out of the difficulty.)

Now he stopped calling Sackville and began to call "Anglesy." But
Anglesy didn't come. He said, "This is the second time that that equerry
has been absent without leave. To-morrow I'll discharge him." Now
he began to whoop for "Thomas," but Thomas didn't answer. Then for
"Theodore," but no Theodore replied.

"Well, I give it up," said Rogers. "The servants never expect me at
this hour, and so they're all off on a lark. Might get along without
the equerry and the page, but can't have any wine or cigars without the
butler, and can't dress without my valet."

I offered to help him dress, but he would not hear of it; and besides,
he said he would not feel comfortable unless dressed by a practised
hand. However, he finally concluded that he was such old friends with
the Earl that it would not make any difference how he was dressed. So we
took a cab, he gave the driver some directions, and we started. By and
by we stopped before a