"Ah!" exclaimed Felix briskly. "At what time?"
"About half-past nine, I should say. I happened to be passing just then, and now I think of it, Thompson and me had a drink."
"Thank you," said Felix, with sudden animation. "Here's something to get another drink with. Is the True Blue a late house?"
"Got a one-o'clock license, sir. Thank you, sir."
"It's ten minutes to one," said Felix, looking at his watch. "Come along, Mr. Wheels; we shall get there before the house closes."
And he ran out of the livery-yard, followed by Old Wheels. Lounging about the bar of the True Blue they found the usual class of customers, who were being urged by the landlord to leave, as the time was come to close the house. The potman was busy with shutters and bolts; behind the bar was the landlady. She knew Old Wheels, and she nodded to him. Felix was a stranger to her, but she cast a favourable eye upon him nevertheless.
"Can we have one minute's private conversation with you?" asked Felix. "And there is time, isn't there, for us to drink a glass or two of your best dry sherry?"
The landlady glanced at the clock, as a matter of form--it was five minutes to one--and said:
"Would you like to step into our little room, gentlemen; you'll find it more comfortable?--Now, turn out, my men, if you don't want to be put out!"
That it would certainly come to this with some of the customers of the True Blue was evident: one man was especially loth to go.