Lynch suddenly stopped, and grasped his companion by the arm.
"What's the matter," demanded Grossbeck.
"It's no use for me to drink wine. The eau de vie carries too many guns for me. I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to get out of this scrape."
"So am I; but come along, or we shall be late."
"I'm going to join the temperance society, and never drink any more wine—not another drop of eau de vie for me."
Lynch evidently felt that he had got into trouble for nothing; that the satisfaction of drinking the firewater was very unsatisfactory in the end. He had sense enough left to see that disgrace and degradation awaited him, and he dreaded the prompt action of Captain Kendall, as exhibited in the case of McDougal. While still suffering from the effects of the tipple, he resolved to drink no more; but pledges made in the heat of intoxication are not the most hopeful ones.
The boosy youngsters worried along the street; but instead of turning to the right, into the Rue de la Monnaie, they went straight ahead, and were soon lost in a maze of narrow streets. They were conscious that they had gone astray, and looked in vain for the square in front of the Théâtre Royal, which they had marked as an objective point. At last they came across a solitary policeman, who paused on his walk to observe their unsteady tramp.
"Hôtel Royal?" said Grossbeck, addressing the officer.
"Oui," replied the man, pointing in the direction from which they had come, and leading the way himself.
In a few moments they reached the square they had missed, and Grossbeck recognized the flaming signs of a large clothing store, on the corner of the street in which the hotel was located.