elieve it; he never
so much as asked me whether I had a mouth on. It was just luncheon
time, too."

"I suppose they lunch late."

"They might have asked me. I shouldn't have taken it. He did say
something about a glass of sherry, but it was in that sort of tone
which tells a fellow that he is expected not to take it. And then
he pretended to laugh. I could see that he was shaking in his shoes
at the idea of having to fight. He go to the torrid zone! He would
much rather go to a police office if he thought that there was any
fighting on hand. I should dust his jacket with a stick if I were
you."

Later on in the evening Tom declared that this was what he would
do, but, before he came to that, a third bottle of Signor Bolivia's
champagne had been made to appear. The evening passed between them
not without much enjoyment. On the opening of that third cork the
wine was declared to be less excellent than what had gone before, and
Signor Bolivia was evoked in person. A gentleman named Walker, who
looked after the establishment, made his appearance, and with many
smiles, having been induced to swallow a bumper of the compound
himself, declared, with a knowing shake of the head and an astute
twinkle of the eye, that the wine was not equal to the last. He took
a great deal of trouble, he assured them, to import an article which
could not be surpassed, if it could be equalled, in London, always
visiting Epernay himself once a-year for the purpose of going through
the wine-vaults. Let him do what he would an inferior bottle,--or,
rather, a bottle somewhat inferior,--would sometimes make its way
into his cellar. Would Mr. Tringle let him have the honour of drawing
another cork, so that the exact amount of difference might be
ascertained? Tom gave his sanction; the fourth cork was drawn; and
Mr. Walker, sitting down and consuming the wine with his customers,
was enabled to point out to a hair's breadth the nature and the
extent of the variation. Tringle still thought that the difference
was considerable. Faddle was, on the whole, inclined to agree with
Signor Bolivia. It need hardly be said that the four bottles were
paid for,--or rather scored against Tringle, who at the present time
had a little account at the establishment.

"Show a fellar fellar's letters morrer." Such or something like it
was Faddle's last request to his friend as they bade each other
farewell for the night in Pall Mall. But Faddle was never destined
to