"He'll have the tantrums before morning, I'm afraid," said one.
"Very likely to turn to typhus," said the other.
"Well, I suppose—it's a horrid bore, but
"What must be must; man is but dust,
If you can't get crumb, you must just eat crust.
"Send me up a go of hot with, and I'll sit up with him till he's asleep, dead, or better."
"Well, then, I'll stay too; we may just as well make a night of it here as well as anywhere else."
And he pulled a short black pipe out of his pocket, and sat down to meditate with his feet on the hobs of the empty grate; the other man went down for the liquor; while I, between the brandy and exhaustion, fell fast asleep, and never stirred till I woke the next morning with a racking headache, and saw the big student standing by my bedside, having, as I afterwards heard, sat by me till four in the morning.
"Hallo, young'un, come to your senses? Headache, eh? Slightly comato-crapulose? We'll give you some soda and salvolatile, and I'll pay for your breakfast."
And so he did, and when he was joined by his companions on their way to St. George's, they were very anxious, having heard my story, to force a few shillings on me "for luck," which, I need not say, I peremptorily refused, assuring them that I could and would get my own living, and never take a farthing from any man.
"That's a plucky dog, though he's a tailor," I heard them say, as, after overwhelming them with thanks, and vowing, amid shouts of laughter, to repay them every farthing I had cost them, I took my way, sick and stunned, towards my dear old Sandy Mackaye's street.