ull-dogs_--made a desperate effort to rescue him--and had some
difficulty to clear myself; but never mind, ''tis the fortune of war,'
and there's very good lodging in the castle. Surely there's Mark Supple
with some one on his back. What, Mark, is that you?" "No, sir--yes,
sir--I mean, sir, it's a gentleman of our college--O dearey me, I
thought it had been a proctor or a bull-dog--for Heaven's sake, help,
sir! here's Mr. Transit quite senseless, _take notice_--picked him up in
a doorway in Lincoln-lane, bleeding like a pig, _take notice_.

O dear, O dear, what a night this has been! We shall all be sent to the
castle, and perhaps transported for manslaughter. For Heaven's sake, Mr.
Echo, help! bear his head up--take hold of his feet, Mr. Blackmantle,
and I'll go before, and ring at Dr. Tuckwell's bell, _take notice_."
In this way poor Transit was conveyed to the surgery, where, after
cleansing him from the blood and dirt, and the application of some
aromatics, he soon recovered, and happily had not sustained any very
serious injury. From old Mark we learned that Eglantine was a captive
to the bull-dogs, and safely deposited in the castle along with Marston
Will, who had fought nobly in his defence: of Lionise we could gain
no other tidings than that Mark had seen him at the end of the fray
climbing up to the first floor window of a tradesman's house in the
High-street, whose daughter it was well known he had a little intrigue
with, and where, as we concluded, he had found a balsam for his wounds,
and shelter for the night. It was nearly three o'clock when I regained
my lodging and found Mags, the waiter of the Mitre, on the look-out
for me: Echo had accompanied me home, and in our way we had picked up
a wounded man of University College, who had suffered severely in the
contest. It was worthy ~258~~the pencil of a Hogarth to have depicted
the appearance of the High-street after the contest, when we were
cautiously perambulating from end to end in search of absent friends,
and fearing at every step the approach of the proctors or their
bull-dogs: the lamps were almost all smashed, and the burners dangling
to and fro with the wind, the greater part extinguished, or just
emitting sufficient light to make night horrible. On the lamp-irons
might be seen what at first sight was most appalling, the figure of
some hero of the _togati_ dangling by the neck, but which, on nearer
approach, proved to be only the dismembered academi