“Just across the road,” replied the young man, jerking his head in that direction.
Dr. Cripps began to conceive a dislike for the lad, as one who could not understand the true meaning of a hint; but he tried again. “Is—is the liquor there worth drinking?” he asked, in a confidential tone.
“It’s a long time since I tried it,” replied the young man carelessly.
Cripps saw an opening here; he laughed feebly, and clapped the young man on the shoulder. “Ha—ha—very good,” he cried—“very good indeed. But you wouldn’t object to tasting it now, I suppose?”
The young man shrugged his shoulders, without looking at Cripps, and made no reply. But the little man, whose thirst was rapidly getting the better of every other consideration, promptly seized him by the arm, and began to lead him across the road in a desperate hurry.
“You shall taste it, my young friend,” he cried, in an ecstasy of good-fellowship. “Not—mind you—not that I would have any young man follow in my footsteps—for I, my young friend, am a wreck. But a little stimulant—especially at this hour of the day—(indeed, I might say, at any hour of the day)—is very necessary; it gives tone to the constitution.”
It appeared to have given something besides tone to the Doctor’s constitution; but he did not say so. He walked with his new friend into the little Railway Inn, and ordered refreshments for both; discovering, to his dismay, when asked for the price of them, that he had no money. He had performed the same excellent trick so often, that he was an adept at it; and tears of indignation actually sprang to his eyes, as he solemnly cursed the unknown man who must have stolen his purse—“containing gold, sir—gold—and my dear and sainted mother’s portrait—a miniature, sir, from which I would not have parted, except at the sacrifice of my last drop of blood. The gold, sir, was nothing—but the miniature——” Here the old sinner hid his face in the folds of a very doubtful-looking handkerchief, and appeared to weep.
The young man, whatever his suspicions may have been, was a good-natured fellow, and he paid the reckoning. Immediately, the little man became all smiles again, and raising his glass, insisted on drinking the young man’s health.
“If, my dear young friend, I could have the privilege of knowing to whom I am indebted—I should be glad; if I could pledge you by name——”
“My name’s Routley—Harry Routley,” replied the lad. “Your health, sir.”