“Now then,” cried the General, “boost him up a moment and hold him forward. Heave ho! all together.”
They raised the inert body, and half-lifted, half-slid it forward upon the narrow balcony.
“Here, Slugby, you prop him behind; and you, Ele and Condor, one on each side. There! that’s it! Now we have him. I’ll speak to the people.”
So saying, the General removed his hat and bowed very low to the crowd in the street. There was a great shout, “Three cheers for Newt!” and the three cheers rang loudly out.
“‘Tain’t Newt,” cried a sharp voice: “it’s Belch.”
“Three cheers for Belch!” roared an enthusiastic somebody.
“D—— Belch,” cried the sharp voice.
“Hi! hi!” roared the chorus; while the torches waved and the drums rolled once more.
During all this time General Arcularius Belch had been bowing profoundly and grimacing in dumb show to the crowd, pointing at Abel Newt, who stood, ingeniously supported, his real state greatly concealed by the friendly night.
“Gentlemen!” cried Belch, in a piercing voice.