"Keep still, Lynch; don't say a word," whispered Grossbeck, as they entered the hall, effectually concealed from the observation of the officers by their companions.
Mr. Fluxion stood at the door, and checked off the names of the party as they entered, on the list he held, so as to be sure that all had come in. It was not an easy thing for Lynch to ascend three flights of stairs; but his companions supported him, and contrived to screen him from the officers, till they reached the room where they were to sleep. The door was closed and fastened, and Grossbeck gratefully acknowledged the kindness of his friends in getting them out of the scrape.
"What did you drink?" asked McKeon.
"Wine," answered the tippler.
"What kind of wine?"
"I don't know—eau de vie."
"Eau de vie!" exclaimed Blount, whose knowledge of French was above the average of that of "our fellows."
"That's what we called for," added Grossbeck.
"And it was as strong as camphene," said Lynch, as he tumbled into bed.
"It was brandy!" laughed Blount.