he was one of those persons
who neither need, nor are accustomed to much sleep. However, towards
morning, when dreams are said to be prophetic, he fell into a most
delightful slumber--a slumber peopled by visions fitted to lure on, through
labyrinths of law, predestined chancellors, or wreck upon the rocks of
glory the inebriate souls of youthful ensigns--dreams from which Rood Hall
emerged crowned with the towers of Belvoir or Raby, and looking over
subject lands and manors wrested from the nefarious usurpation of
Thornhills and Hazeldeans--dreams in which Audley Egerton's gold and
power--rooms in Downing Street, and saloons in Grosvenor Square--had passed
away to the smiling dreamer, as the empire of Chaldaea passed to Darius the
Median. Why visions so belying the gloomy and anxious thoughts that
preceded them should visit the pillow of Randal Leslie, surpasses my
philosophy to conjecture. He yielded, however, passively to their spell,
and was startled to hear the clock strike eleven as he descended the
stairs to breakfast. He was vexed at the lateness of the hour, for he had
meant to have taken advantage of the unwonted softness of Egerton, and
drawn therefrom some promises or proffers to cheer the prospects which the
minister had so chillingly expanded before him the preceding night. And it
was only at breakfast that he usually found the opportunity of private
conference with his busy patron. But Audley Egerton would be sure to have
sallied forth--and so he had--only Randal was surprised to hear that he had
gone out in his carriage, instead of on foot, as was his habit. Randal
soon despatched his solitary meal, and with a new and sudden affection for
his office, thitherward bent his way. As he passed through Piccadilly, he
heard behind a voice that had lately become familiar to him, and turning
round, saw Baron Levy walking side by side, though not arm-in-arm, with a
gentleman almost as smart as himself, but with a jauntier step and a
brisker air--a step that, like Diomed's, as described by Shakspeare--

"Rises on the toe--that spirit of his
In aspiration lifts him from the earth."

Indeed, one may judge of the spirits and disposition of a man by his
ordinary gait and mien in walking. He who habitually pursues abstract
thought, looks down on the ground. He who is accustomed to sudden
impulses, or is trying to seize upon some necessary recollection, looks up
with a kind of jerk. He who is a steady, cautious, mere