ho, as we are
aware, put himself forward to the world generally as Signor Bolivia,
felt for the moment a throb of pity, which overcame in his heart the
innkeeper's natural desire to make the most he could of his customer.
"Better have a mutton chop and a little drop of brandy-and-water
hot."

"I ain't up to it, Bolivia," said the young man. "I couldn't swallow
it if I had it. Give us the bottle of champagne and the devilled
biscuit." Then Mr. Walker,--for Bolivia was in truth Walker,--fetched
the wine and ordered the biscuit; and poor Tom was again brought back
to the miserable remedy to which he had before applied himself in his
misfortune. There he remained for about an hour, during a part of
which he slept; but before he left the house he finished the wine.
As he got up to take his departure Mr. Walker scanned his gait and
bearing, having a friendly feeling for the young man, and not wishing
him to fall again into the hands of the police. But Tom walked forth
apparently as sober as a judge, and as melancholy as a hangman. As
far as Mr. Walker could see the liquor had made no impression on him.
"If I were you, Mr. Tringle," said the keeper of the eating-house,
"I'd go home at once, because you are so mortal wet."

"All right," said Tom, going out into the pouring rain.

It was then something after eleven, and Tom instead of taking the
friendly advice which had been offered to him, walked, as fast as he
could, round Leicester Square; and as he walked the fumes of the wine
mounted into his head. But he was not drunk,--not as yet so drunk as
to misbehave himself openly. He did not make his way round the square
without being addressed, but he simply shook off from him those who
spoke to him. His mind was still intent upon Ayala. But now he was
revengeful rather than despondent. The liquor had filled him once
again with a desire to do something. If he could destroy himself and
the Colonel by one and the same blow, how fitting a punishment would
that be for Ayala! But how was he to do it? He would throw himself
down from the top of the Duke of York's column, but that would be
nothing unless he could force the Colonel to take the jump with him!
He had called the man out and he wouldn't come! Now, with the alcohol
in his brain, he again thought that the man was a coward for not
coming. Had not such a meeting been from time immemorial the resource
of gentlemen injured as he now was injured? The Colonel would not
come when