require to be enormously charged with Ale. Mr. Raikes
did his best to keep his head above the surface of the rapid flood. He
conceived the chairman in brilliant colours, and probably owing to the
energy called for by his brain, the legs of the young man failed him
twice, as he tried them. Attention was demanded. Mr. Raikes addressed
the meeting.

The three young gentlemen-cricketers had hitherto behaved with a certain
propriety. It did not offend Mr. Raikes to see them conduct themselves
as if they were at a play, and the rest of the company paid actors. He
had likewise taken a position, and had been the first to laugh aloud
at a particular slip of grammar; while his shrugs at the aspirates
transposed and the pronunciation prevalent, had almost established
a free-masonry between him and one of the three young
gentlemen-cricketers--a fair-haired youth, with a handsome, reckless
face, who leaned on the table, humorously eyeing the several speakers,
and exchanging by-words and laughs with his friends on each side of him.

But Mr. Raikes had the disadvantage of having come to the table empty
in stomach--thirsty exceedingly; and, I repeat, that as, without
experience, you are the victim of divinely given Eve, so, with no
foundation to receive it upon, are you the victim of good sound Ale.
He very soon lost his head. He would otherwise have seen that he must
produce a wonderfully-telling speech if he was to keep the position he
had taken, and had better not attempt one. The three young cricketers
were hostile from the beginning. All of them leant forward, calling
attention loudly laughing for the fun to come.

'Gentlemen!' he said: and said it twice. The gap was wide, and he said,
'Gentlemen!' again.

This commencement of a speech proves that you have made the plunge,
but not that you can swim. At a repetition of 'Gentlemen!' expectancy
resolved into cynicism.

'Gie'n a help,' sang out a son of the plough to a neighbour of the
orator.

'Hang it!' murmured another, 'we ain't such gentlemen as that comes to.'

Mr. Raikes was politely requested to 'tune his pipe.'

With a gloomy curiosity as to the results of Jack's adventurous
undertaking, and a touch of anger at the three whose bearing throughout
had displeased him, Evan regarded his friend. He, too, had drunk, and
upon emptiness. Bright ale had mounted to his brain. A hero should be
held as sacred as the Grand Llama: so let no more be said than that he
drank still,