“The devil fly away with your morals, and he won't be overloaded either,” was the polite rejoinder; and in we all went together. The oysters and porter soon made their appearance, and had ample justice done them; then, as a matter of course, spirits and water and cigars were produced, “just to prevent the oysters from disagreeing with us”; and we sat talking over old times, and relating various adventures which had occurred to us since, without troubling our heads about the flight of minutes. At length Coleman, pulling out his watch, exclaimed: “Past four o'clock, by the powers! I must be getting to bed—I've got a lease to draw to-morrow, and my head won't be over-clear as it is.”
“Nonsense,” replied Lawless; “bed's all a popular delusion; we can't be better off than we are—sit still.” But on Coleman's persisting in his wish to depart, Lawless continued: “Well, take another glass, and then Frank and I will walk home with you, and see you safe, for it's my belief that you're getting 'screwed.,' or you'd never think of going to bed”. Freddy and I exchanged glances, for if any of our party were in the condition expressed by the mysterious word “screwed,” it certainly was Lawless himself. After sitting some little time longer, we once more sallied forth, with the avowed intention of seeing Coleman home.
CHAPTER XV — RINGING THE CURFEW
“If the bell have any sides the clapper will find 'em.”—
—Ben Jonson.
“——ringing changes all our bells hath marr'd,
Jangled they have and jarr'd
So long, they're out of tune, and out of frame;
They seem not now the same.
Put them in frame anew, and once begin
To tune them so, that they may chime all in.”
—Herbert.
“Great then are the mysteries of bell-ringing: and this may
be said in its praise, that of all devices which men have sought
out for obtaining distinction by making a noise in the world, it
is the most harmless.”
—The Doctor.
AS we proceeded through the town Lawless, despite our endeavours to restrain him, chose to vent his superabundant spirits by performing sundry feats at the expense of the public, which, had the police regulations of the place been properly attended to, would have assuredly gained us a sojourn in the watch-house. We had just prevailed upon him to move on, after singing “We won't go home till morning” under the windows of “the Misses Properprim's Seminary for Young Ladies,” when a little shrivelled old man, in a sort of watchman's white greatcoat, bearing a horn lantern in his hand, brushed past us, and preceded us down the street at a shuffling trot.
“Holloa!” cried Lawless, “who's that old picture of ugliness? Look what a pace the beggar's cutting along at! what on earth's he up to?”
“That's the sexton and bell-ringer,” returned Coleman; “they keep up the old custom at Hillingford of ringing the curfew at daybreak, and he's going about it now, I suppose.”
“What jolly fun!” said Lawless; “come on, and let's see how the old cock does it; “and, suiting the action to the word, off he started in pursuit.
“We'd better follow him,” said I; “he'll be getting into some mischief or other, depend upon it.”