"Has he brought yours?" he said.
"What?—who?"
"Why the other two gallons for you and Johanna."
"Good gracious, Ben, you don't mean that?"
"Don't I, though. Oh, here he is. All's right. Now, my lad, get the little pint jug, with the silver top to it, and if we don't mull a drop, I'm a sinner. Now, you'll see if Mrs. O. don't come round quite handsome."
Ben, by the aid of some sugar, succeeded in making a very palatable drink, and just as the steam began to salute the nostrils of old Oakley and himself, the door of the parlour was opened, and who should heedlessly step into the room but the pious Mr. Lupin himself. Mr. Lupin was so transfixed by finding Ben there, that for a moment or two he could not gather strength to retreat; and during that brief period, Ben had shifted his chair, until he got quite behind the reverend gentleman, who, when he did step back, in consequence fell into Ben's lap.
"What do yer mean?" cried Ben, in a voice of thunder.
"Oh, murder—murder! Have mercy upon me! I only looked in as I was passing, to ask how all the family was."
"Yes," said Mr. Oakley, "and because you, no doubt, heard I was going to Tottenham, to Judge Merivale's, to fit him with a pair of spectacles."
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Let me go, sir."