s upon
the costly chairs, scraping with his feet the polished table, attempted
to fix the wax in the silver sconces, with which the antiquarian tastes
of Mr. Francis Wade had adorned the room.

"You'll break the table, sir," said the servant.

"Damn the table!" said Rex. "Buy 'nother table. What's table t'you?"
"Oh, certainly, sir," replied the man.

"Oh, c'ert'nly! Why c'ert'nly? What do you know about it?"

"Oh, certainly not, sir," replied the man.

"If I had--stockwhip here--I'd make you--hic--skip! Whar's brandy?"

"Here, Mr. Richard."

"Have some! Good brandy! Send for servantsh and have dance. D'you dance,
Tomkins?"

"No, Mr. Richard."

"Then you shall dance now, Tomkins. You'll dance upon nothing one day,
Tomkins! Here! Halloo! Mary! Susan! Janet! William! Hey! Halloo!" And he
began to shout and blaspheme.

"Don't you think it's time for bed, Mr. Richard?" one of the men
ventured to suggest.

"No!" roared the ex-convict, emphatically, "I don't! I've gone to bed at
daylight far too long. We'll have 'luminashon! I'm master here. Master
everything. Richard 'Vine's my name. Isn't it, Tomkins, you villain?"

"Oh-h-h! Yes, Mr. Richard."

"Course it is, and make you know it too! I'm no painter-picture,
crockery chap. I'm genelman! Genelman seen the world! Knows what's
what. There ain't much I ain't fly to. Wait till the old woman's dead,
Tomkins, and you shall see!" More swearing, and awful threats of
what the inebriate would do when he was in possession. "Bring up
some brandy!" Crash goes the bottle in the fire-place. "Light up the
droring-rooms; we'll have dance! I'm drunk! What's that? If you'd gone
through what I have, you'd be glad to be drunk. I look a fool"--this
to his image in another glass. "I ain't though, or I wouldn't be
here. Curse you, you grinning idiot"--crash goes his fist through the
mirror--"don't grin at me. Play up there! Where's old woman? Fetch her
out and let's dance!"

"Lady Devine has gone to bed, Mr. Richard," cried Tomkins, aghast,
attempting to bar the passage to the upper regions.

"Then let's have her out o' bed," cried John Rex, plunging to the door.

Tomkins, attempting to restrain him, is instantly hurled into a cabinet
of rare china, and the drunken brute essays the stairs. The other
servants seize him. He curses and fights like a demon. Doors bang open,
lights gleam, maids hover, horrified, asking if it's "fire?" and begging
for it to be "put out". The whole hou