hort, indicates continued wet,'
replied Jawleyford. 'The rivers are all swollen, and the low grounds under
water; besides, my dear fellow, consider the distance--consider the
distance; sixteen miles, if it's a yard.'

'What, Dundleton Tower!' exclaimed Sponge, recollecting that Jawleyford had
said it was only ten the night before.

'Sixteen miles, and bad road,' replied Jawleyford.

'The deuce it is!' muttered Sponge; adding, 'Well, I'll go and see my
groom, at all events.' So saying, he rang the bell as if the house was his
own, and desired Spigot to show him the way to his servant.

Leather, of course, was in the servants' hall, refreshing himself with cold
meat and ale, after his ride up from Lucksford.

Finding that he had ridden the hack up, he desired Leather to leave him
there. 'Tell the groom I _must_ have him put up,' said Sponge; 'and you
ride the chestnut on in the morning. How far is it to Dundleton Tower?'
asked he.

'Twelve or thirteen miles, they say, from here,' replied Leather; 'nine or
ten from Lucksford.'

'Well, that'll do,' said Sponge; 'you tell the groom here to have the hack
saddled for me at nine o'clock, and you ride Multum in Parvo quietly on,
either to the meet or till I overtake you.'

'But how am I to get back to Lucksford?' asked Leather, cocking up a foot
to show how thinly he was shod.

'Oh, just as you can,' replied Sponge; 'get the groom here to set you down
with his master's hacks. I dare say they haven't been out to-day, and it'll
do them good.'

So saying, Mr. Sponge left his valuable servant to do the best he could for
himself.

Having returned to the music-room, with the aid of an old county map Mr.
Sponge proceeded to trace his way to Dundleton Tower; aided, or rather
retarded, by Mr. Jawleyford, who kept pointing out all sorts of
difficulties, till, if Mr. Sponge had followed his advice, he would have
made eighteen or twenty miles of the distance. Sponge, however, being used
to scramble about strange countries, saw the place was to be accomplished
in ten or eleven. Jawleyford was sure he would lose himself, and Sponge was
equally confident that he wouldn't.

At length the glad sound of the gong put an end to all further argument;
and the inmates of Jawleyford Court retired, candle in hand, to their
respective apartments, to adorn for a repetition of the yesterday's spread,
with the addition of the Rev. Mr. Hobanob's company, to say grace, and
praise the 'Wintle.'