e a glass of something,' said Mr. Waffles, again appealing to the Fox's
head.

'Thank you, sir, I've had a glass,' replied Tom, sinking the second one.

'What will you have?' asked Mr. Waffles.

'Port, if you please,' replied Tom.

'Here it is,' rejoined Mr. Waffles, again handing him the measure.

Up went the cup, over went the contents; but Tom set it down with a less
satisfied face than before. He had had enough. The left leg prop, too, gave
way, and he was nearly toppling on the table.

Having got a chair for the dilapidated old man, they again essayed to get
him into their line, with better success than before. Having plied him well
with port, they now plied him well with the stranger, and what with the one
and the other, and a glass or two of brandy-and-water, Tom became very
tractable, and it was ultimately arranged that they should have a drag over
the very stiffest parts of the country, wherein all who liked should take
part, but that Mr. Caingey Thornton and Mr. Spareneck should be especially
deputed to wait upon Mr. Sponge, and lead him into mischief. Of course it
was to be a 'profound secret,' and equally, of course, it stood a good
chance of being kept, seeing how many were in it, the additional number it
would have to be communicated to before it could be carried out, and the
happy state old Tom was in for arranging matters. Nevertheless, our friends
at the 'Imperial' congratulated themselves on their success; and after a
few minutes spent in discussing old Tom on his withdrawal, the party broke
up, to array themselves in the splendid dress uniform of the 'Hunt,' to
meet again at Miss Jumpheavy's ball.

CHAPTER IX

THE MEET--THE FIND, AND THE FINISH

[Illustration]

Early to bed and early to rise being among Mr. Sponge's maxims, he was
enjoying the view of the pantiles at the back of his hotel shortly after
daylight the next morning, a time about as difficult to fix in a November
day as the age of a lady of a 'certain age.' It takes even an expeditious
dresser ten minutes or a quarter of an hour extra the first time he has to
deal with boots and breeches; and Mr. Sponge being quite a pattern card in
his peculiar line, of course took a good deal more to get himself 'up'.

An accustomed eye could see a more than ordinary stir in the streets that
morning. Riding-masters and their assistants might be seen going along with
strings of saddled and side-saddled screws; flys began to roll at an