"Mr. Dalroyd, Charles, for one thing."
"Aye, and what of the fellow?"
"Would he were choked with a flap-dragon. But—meanwhile——"
"What, Betty?"
"Hark, there's aunt wailing for me, I must go. You are free of all the upper chambers of this wing, but mind, if I whistle you must get you into hiding at once."
So saying, she shook portentous finger at him, smiled and vanished.
CHAPTER XXVI
OF BACCHUS AND THE MUSES
Seldom or never, in all its length of days, had the great dining room of the ancient hostelry of the "George and Dragon" glowed with such sartorial splendour or known such an elegant posturing of silk-clad legs, such a flirting of ruffles, such a whirl of full-skirted coats; coats, these, of velvet, of worked satin and rich brocade, coats of various colours from Sir Benjamin's pink and gold to Lord Alvaston's purple and silver; the light of many candles scintillated in jewelled cravat and shoe-buckle, shone upon crested buttons and on the glossy curls of huge periwigs, black, brown and gold. In the midst of this gorgeous company stood a short, stoutish gentleman, his booted legs wide apart, his sun-burned face nearly as red as his weatherbeaten service coat, a little man with a truculent eye.