AFFAIR OF HONOUR. Ill 



vehicles were light and followed well, a great 

 deal of time was wasted in shifting your luggage 

 from one to another at every stage, or, at most, 

 every other stage. 



I once left London on an affair of importance 

 — namely, that of carrying a hostile message 

 from a friend to a or'entleman who resided near 

 Marlborough, and found it so difficult to rouse 

 the ostler, postboy, and the man who looked 

 after the chaises, that I got no farther than 

 Botham's at Salt Hill. 



I left the Piazza Coffee-House, where the 

 letter had been concocted demanding an apology 

 or a meeting, about eleven at night, was kept 

 waiting for more than a half hour at the " Red 

 Lion," Hounslow, and only reached Salt Hill 

 about half-past one in the morning. There, 

 again, had I to awake the sleepy ostler and 

 drowsy waiter, the latter of whom strenuously 

 recommended me to sleep at the hotel and con- 

 tinue my journey at daylight. This I accordingly 

 did ; but what with the arrangement of the affair 

 of honour, as it was called, and which ended 

 amicably, I was nearly two-and-twenty hours 

 on the journey by road that could now be ac- 

 complished with ease by rail in less than 

 seven. 



