The valet sighed, and again shook his head.
"You will be better presently, my lord," said the magistrate.
"Drunk as a lord!" hiccuped the valet.
"O, no, my lord! It was the jolting along the road."
"In that coffin?" said the valet, who now began to regain the use of his tongue.
"Yes, my lord."
"Am I a lord? He, he, he! Where am I?"
"At Durowlah, my lord."
"And who are you?"
"Your host, my lord."