MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 167 



the door. The passage lamp had died out and filled the corridor 

 with its fragrance. Sponge, however, knew the way, and the dark- 

 ness favoured the adjustment of cravats and the fingering of hair. 

 Having got up a sort of drunken simper, Sponge opened the drawing- 

 room door, expecting to find smiling ladies in a blaze of light. All, 

 however, was darkness, save the expiring embers in the grate. The 

 tick, tick, tick, ticking of the clocks sounded wonderfully clear. 



" Gone to bed ! " exclaimed Sponge. 



" Who-hoop ! " shrieked Jack, at the top of his voice. 



" What's smatter, gentlemen ? — What's smatter ? " exclaimed 

 Spigot rushing in, rubbing his eyes with one hand, and holding 

 a block tin candlestick in the other. 



" Nothin'," replied Jack, squinting his eyes inside out ; adding, 

 " Get me a devilled — " (hiccup) 



" Don't know how to do them here, sir," snapped Spigot. 



" Devilled turkey's leg though you do, you rascal ! " rejoined 

 Jack, doubling his fists and putting himself in posture. 



" Beg pardon, sir," replied Spigot, " but the cook, sir, is gone 

 to bed, sir. Do you know, sir, what o'clock it is, sir ? " 



"No," replied Jack. 



" What time is it ? " asked Sponge. 



" Twenty minutes to two," replied Spigot, holding up a sort of 

 pocket warming-pan, which he called a watch. 



" The deuce," exclaimed Sponge. 



" Who'd ha' thought it ? " muttered Jack. 



" Well then, I suppose we may as well go to bed," observed 

 Sponge. 



" S'pose so," replied Jack ; " nothin' more to get." 



" Do you know your room ? " asked Sponge. 



" To be sure I do," replied Jack ; " don't think I'm d — d — dr — 

 drunk, do you ? " 



" Not likely," rejoined Sponge. 



Jack then commenced a very crab-like ascent of the stairs, 

 which fortunately were easy, or he would never have got up. Mr. 

 Sponge, who still occupied the state apartments, took leave of 

 Jack at his own door, and Jack went bumping and blundering on 

 in search of the branch passage leading to his piggery. He found 

 the green baize door that usually distinguishes the entrance to 

 these secondary suites, and was presently lurching along its con- 

 tracted passage. As luck would have it, however, he got into his 

 host's dressing-room, where that worthy slept ; and when Jawley- 

 ford jumped up in the morning, as was his wont, to see what sort 

 of a day it was, he trod on Jack s face, who had fallen down in his 

 clothes alongside of the bed, and Jawleyford broke Jack's spectacles 

 across the bridge of his nose. 



" Rot it ! " roared Jack jumping up, " don't ride over a fellow 



