"To your tents, O Israel!" shouted a young man, with more of wine than wit, as he turned towards the converted Jew; "for myself," he added, "I'll be d—d if I stir an inch till I have finished this bottle."
Mr. Cartwright stopped short in his progress towards the door. He turned a glance, more inquiring perhaps than stern, on the face of the intoxicated speaker, and perceived that he was the nephew of an earl; the sole reason indeed which had procured him the honour of a seat in that distinguished circle.
The vicar balanced for a moment whether he should reprimand him or not. Had he been the son, instead of the nephew of the noble lord, he would certainly have passed on in holy meditation, but, as it was, he stopped. There were many serious eyes upon him, notwithstanding the claret. He remembered that the earl had a "goodly progeny," and that consequently his nephew would never be likely to succeed to his title; and therefore with great dignity, and much pious solemnity, he thus addressed his curate, who, in his capacity of domestic chaplain, was ever near him.
"Mr. Hetherington! you have heard the awful words spoken by Mr. Augustus Mappleton. Remember, sir, that his repentance and conversion be prayed for at our concluding service this evening, and also in your extempore prayer before sermon on next Sabbath morning."
These words had a very sobering effect on the company, and the whole party made, all things considered, a very orderly exit from the dining-room, not however without Mr. Cartwright finding an opportunity of whispering in the ear of his cousin—
"Now is your time, Stephen, to go into the dressing-room."
CHAPTER XI.
THE "ELOPEMENT."
When the gentlemen reached the lawn, they found it already covered, not only with the company from all the other rooms, but likewise with crowds of people from the Park, who came rushing in through different entrances from all quarters.