"Because I've a call thereabouts myself to-day, an' if you vas minded to go along, I'd be honoured, sir, honoured."
"Thank you, Mr. Shrig, but—" I paused, for among the pile of unopened letters I espied one addressed in a familiar hand and, breaking the seal, read:
MY DEAR PERRY: Strong drink is raging, so am I, and London is the devil! Temptation dogs me, but a promise is a promise, so I have scuttled off ignominiously. You will find me at the Chequers Inn, Tonbridge, if I am not there to meet you, wait for me.
By the way, ale is exempt from your proscription, of course.
Yours to command now as ever,
ANTHONY VERE-MANVILLE.
"Mr. Shrig," said I, pocketing this letter, "when, pray, do you propose to start Tonbridge way?"
"This werry moment, sir."
"Why, then I shall be happy to accompany you."
"Are ye ready, sir?"