at Strong did not think fit to question
his patron any further at that time; but resolved, if need were, to try
and discover for himself what was the secret tie between Altamont and
Clavering.

CHAPTER XLIV. In which the Colonel narrates some of his Adventures

Early in the forenoon of the day after the dinner in Grosvenor Place,
at which Colonel Altamont had chosen to appear, the Colonel emerged
from his chamber in the upper story at Shepherd's Inn, and entered into
Strong's sitting-room, where the Chevalier sate in his easy-chair with
the newspaper and his cigar. He was a man who made his tent comfortable
wherever he pitched it, and long before Altamont's arrival, had done
justice to a copious breakfast of fried eggs and broiled rashers, which
Mr. Grady had prepared secundum artem. Good-humoured and talkative, he
preferred any company rather than none; and though he had not the least
liking for his fellow-lodger, and would not have grieved to hear that
the accident had befallen him which Sir Francis Clavering desired so
fervently, yet kept on fair terms with him. He had seen Altamont to bed
with great friendliness on the night previous, and taken away his candle
for fear of accidents; and finding a spirit-bottle empty, upon which he
had counted for his nocturnal refreshment, had drunk a glass of water
with perfect contentment over his pipe, before he turned into his own
crib and to sleep. That enjoyment never failed him: he had always an
easy temper, a faultless digestion, and a rosy cheek; and whether he was
going into action the next morning or to prison (and both had been his
lot), in the camp or the Fleet, the worthy Captain snored healthfully
through the night, and woke with a good heart and appetite, for the
struggles or difficulties or pleasures of the day.

The first act of Colonel Altamont was to bellow to Grady for a pint
of pale ale, the which he first poured into a pewter flagon, whence he
transferred it to his own lips. He put down the tankard empty, drew a
great breath, wiped his mouth in his dressing-gown (the difference of
the colour of his beard from his dyed whiskers had long struck Captain
Strong, who had seen too that his hair was fair under his black wig,
but made no remarks upon these circumstances)--the Colonel drew a
great breath, and professed himself immensely refreshed by his draught.
"Nothing like that beer," he remarked, "when the coppers are hot. Many a
day I've drunk a dozen of