There now remained but a few shillings above five pounds, and he sat down and wrote this note:—
“My dear Skeffington,—Some one of your friends, last
night, was kind enough to pay my share of the reckoning for
me. Will you do me the favor to thank and repay him? I am
off to Ireland hurriedly, or I 'd call and see you. I have
not even time to wait for those examination papers, which
were to be delivered to me either to-day or to-morrow. Would
you send them by post, addressed T. Butler, Burnside,
Coleraine? My head is not very clear to-day, but it should
be more stupid if I could forget all your kindness since we
met.
“Believe me, very sincerely, &c.,
“Tony Butler.”
The next was to his mother:—
“Dearest Mother,—Don't expect me on Saturday; it may be
two or three days later ere I reach home. I am all right,
in rare health and capital spirits, and never in my life
felt more completely your own
“Tony Butler.”
One more note remained, but it was not easy to write it, nor even to decide whether to address it to Dora or to Mr. M'Gruder. At length he decided for the latter, and wrote thus:—
“Sir,—I beg to offer you the very humblest apology for
the disturbance created last night before your house. We had
all drunk too much wine, lost our heads, and forgotten good
manners. If I had been in a fitting condition to express
myself properly, I 'd have made my excuses on the spot. As
it is, I make the first use of my recovered brains to tell
you how heartily ashamed I am of my conduct, and how
desirous I feel to know that you will cherish no ungenerous
feelings towards your faithful servant,
“T. Butler.”
“I hope he 'll think it all right. I hope this will satisfy him. I trust it is not too humble, though I mean to be humble. If he's a gentleman, he 'll think no more of it; but he may not be a gentleman, and will probably fancy that, because I stoop, he ought to kick me. That would be a mistake; and perhaps it would be as well to add, by way of P.S., 'If the above is not fully satisfactory, and that you prefer another issue to this affair, my address is T. Butler, Burnside, Coleraine, Ireland.'
“Perhaps that would spoil it all,” thought Tony. “I want him to forgive an offence; and it's not the best way to that end to say, 'If you like fighting better, don't balk your fancy.' No, no; I 'll send it in its first shape. I don't feel very comfortable on my knees, it is true, but it is all my own fault if I am there.
“And now to reach home again. I wish I knew how that was to be done! Seven or eight shillings are not a very big sum, but I 'd set off with them on foot if there was no sea to be traversed.” To these thoughts there was no relief by the possession of any article of value that he could sell or pledge. He had neither watch nor ring, nor any of those fanciful trinkets which modern fashion affects.
He knew not one person from whom he could ask the loan of a few pounds; nor, worse again, could he be certain of being able to repay them within a reasonable time. To approach Skeffington on such a theme was impossible; anything rather than this. If he were once at Liverpool, there were sure to be many captains of Northern steamers that would know him, and give him a passage home. But how to get to Liverpool? The cheapest railroad fare was above a pound. If he must needs walk, it would take him a week; and he could not afford himself more than one meal a day, taking his chance to sleep under a corn-stack or a hedgerow. Very dear, indeed, was the price that grand banquet cost him, and yet not dearer than half the extravagances men are daily and hourly committing; the only difference being that the debt is not usually exacted so promptly. He wrote his name on a card, and gave it to the waiter, saying, “When I send to you under this name, you will give my portmanteau to the bearer of the message, for I shall probably not come back,—at least, for some time.”