LIFE OF MYTTON. 195 



It would be both useless and tedious to describe 

 the various scenes that passed in the chamber of my 

 poor friend, who was guarded day and night by three 

 persons at a time, after he recovered his strength ; 

 but some of these scenes would put the powers of de- 

 scription at defiance. His conversation, for example, 

 with these persons, who were English smugglers, was, 

 at times, ludicrous in the extreme, and highl)- charac- 

 teristic of the man.'" Previously to this precaution, 

 however, rather an awful scene was witnessed by me. 

 A servant from his hotel came to inform me that 

 Mr. Mytton had got six carving-knives in his pos- 



* There was nothing that medical skill or humanity could suggest left 

 untried to relieve the sufferings of Mr. Mytton.' Several of his friends 

 sat up, or lay on a spare bed, the whole night in his room, and of course 

 I took my turn. It happened one night tliat I was accompanied on my 

 watch by a waiter from some hotel in London, who was sent over to 

 Mr. Roberts' hotel for the purpose of learning the French language. 

 "Nimrod!" exclaimed Mr. Mytton; but I feigned sleep. "Nnnrod!" 

 he repeated, " I want to talk to you ;" but I was still asleep. " Come, 

 then," said he to the waiter, " sit by me, and talk to me. You have 

 heard of my hounds.'"' " Your hounds, sir.'" said the man, a thorough- 

 bred cockney ; " I can't sny as I ever did." " Why, you d — d fool, where 

 have you lived all your life .? Did you never hear of Euphrates?" "I 

 can't s.iy ns I did, sir," replied the man. "What !" said Mytton, '■'never 

 heard of Euphrates the racehorse? I'll have you smothered to-morrow, 

 by G — d ! Get back to your great chair, and go to sleep !" 



