n of some strength of will, he rose to go.

At the moment a half-tipsy man at the little table next him carelessly
flung the end of his cigar away. It alighted, probably by accident, on
the top of Aspel's head.

"Hallo, sir!" shouted the enraged youth, starting up and seizing the man
by his collar.

"Hallo, sir!" echoed the man, who had reached his pugnacious cups, "let
go."

He struck out at the same moment. Aspel would have parried the blow,
but his arm had been seized by one of the bystanders, and it took effect
on his nose, which instantly sent a red stream over his mouth and down
the front of his shirt.

Good-humour and kindliness usually served Aspel in the place of
principle. Remove these qualities temporarily, and he became an
unguarded savage--sometimes a roaring lion.

With a shout that suspended the entertainments and drew the attention of
the whole house, he seized his adversary, lifted him in the air, and
would infallibly have dashed him on the floor if he had not been caught
in the arms of the crowd. As it was, the offender went down, carrying
half-a-dozen friends and a couple of tables with their glasses along
with him.

Aspel was prevented from doing more mischief by three powerful
policemen, who seized him from behind and led him into the passage.
There a noisy explanation took place, which gave the offender time to
cool and reflect on his madness. On his talking quietly to the
policemen, and readily paying for the damage he had done, he was allowed
to go free. Descending the stair to the street, where the glare of the
entrance-lamps fell full upon him, he felt a sudden sensation of
faintness, caused by the combination of cold air, excitement, drink, and
smoke. Seizing the railings with one hand, he stood for a moment with
his eyes shut.

Re-opening them, and gazing stupidly before him, he encountered the
horrified gaze of May Maylands! She had been spending the evening with
Miss Lillycrop, and was on her way home, escorted by Solomon Flint.

"Come along, Miss May," said Solomon, "don't be afraid of 'im. He can't
'urt you--too far gone for that, bless you. Come on."

May yielded, and was out of sight in a moment.

Filled with horror, despair, madness, and self-contempt, George Aspel
stood holding on to the railings and glaring into vacuity. Recovering
himself he staggered home and went to bed.

CHAPTER NINE.

MR. BLURT AND GEORGE ASPEL IN PECULIAR CIRCUMSTANCES.

When a