“I know not,” answered the republican, laconically, and gazing on the ground, apparently in thought.
“He has the air of a slave,” quoth the free Culpepper, and slaves cannot bear the company of freemen; therefore he did right to go, whe-w! Had we a proper and thorough and efficient reform, human nature would not be thus debased by trades and callings and barters and exchange, for all professions are injurious to the character and the dignity of man, whe-w! but, as I shall prove upon the hustings to-morrow, it is in vain to hope for any amendment in the wretched state of things until the people of these realms are fully, freely, and fairly represented, whe-w! Gentlemen, it is past two, and we have not ordered dinner, whe-w!” (N. B.—This ejaculation denotes the kind of snuffle which lent peculiar energy to the dicta of Mr. Culpepper.)
“Ring the bell, then, and summon the landlord,” said, very pertinently, one of the three disputants upon the character of Wilkes.
The landlord appeared; dinner was ordered.
“Pray,” said Wolfe, “has that man, Mr. Brown I think he called himself, left the inn?”
“He has, sir, for he was mightily offended at something which—”
“And,” interrupted Wolfe, “how far hence does Mr. Mordaunt live?”
“About five miles on the other side of W——,” answered mine host.
Wolfe rose, seized his hat, and was about to depart.
“Stay, stay,” cried citizen Christopher Culpepper; “you will not leave us till after dinner?”