The

memory began to unfold to him what Simon had unconsciously deposited there the night before. His ideas were never of the brightest or most orderly, and on this matter there was some special confusion. He had heard of teetotalism, and he remembered temperance, but even this latter folly had proved such a mystery that he had drunk himself blind in the effort to comprehend it; so that the former subject was from the first and utterly tabooed. The word had no meaning for him, and the reported fact found not a moment's belief in him. whole thing was like a ghost-very horrible, very incredible, very invisible, and a thing to be dismissed from the mind with contempt if it could. But, from Simon's account, he was now to have the opportunity of seeing this ghost walk past his own door, in open contempt alike of his incredulity, hatred, threats -it was to be at length a substantial and palpable fact, of which his own eye, if he so wished, might give him faithful testimony. He had not yet concluded to honour the procession with his presence, so far even as to peep through the chinks of the door, or the thin parts of the curtains, when he remembered something which gave him great pleasure and spirit for the enterprise. He had somehow an impression that the grand band, for all its boasting, could not possibly play without Simon's valuable aid. Where he had picked up this notion it is hard to tell, unless Simon told him so himself. He saw his course marked out plainly; that was, to immure Simon for the whole day at least, to bottle him (as zealous patriots serve each other at alternate elections), and then, having stationed himself at the front window or behind the curtained glass-door in the passage, to enjoy the silent discomfiture of the water-gruellers, and to know that he was the cause of their silence and sorrow.

This feasible and promising plan he put at once in course of preparation, and had just seated himself, thankful for rest after more than five minutes of unwonted exertion, when the noise of many feet broke upon his ear. Wistfully he peered from behind his curtain, and his eye rested with anything but a pleased expression on the stuck-up young monkeys, in Sunday-school order, and in Sunday clothes, walking more like a Band of Triumph than a Band of Hope; little scamps

that, not long ago, used to be rolling in the gutter before his door, in rags, and hungry,—and now stamping in their double-soled boots, as if they would knock any little beggar down who should dare to chaff them about their former disgrace. These passed by, and the elder professors of that unconstitutional, radical, and unpatriotic virtue, sobriety, came in sight. It would have been an eyesore to him to see their side-long winks of arrogant defiance thrown in the direction of his fusty old den; but his rage was more than appeased, just then, by the forlorn silence of the band. He felt that he had done the trick, and winners can afford to be grinned at.

How short-sighted are mortals at the best-how treacherous, more especially to a gin-fevered eye, are all outward things, and to beer-muddled mind, alas! how uncertainly and how untruly are probable consequences suggested. If Dummy had only known-only could have known-what was to be the issue of that morning's scheming, he would have foreknown what never, surely, would have happened; for he would have listened to the voice of prudence, as it screamed from the lips of Simon in the bar, in an entreaty to know where he was, and to be let out of that. To that prayer of fear and doubt he only drawled out a delusive and sarcastic "All right," then turned again to the loophole, from which he snugly gazed on the temperance world without. This look was timely; but it had better have been his last look, as it was already his last eye; for what he saw so enraged him, that he threw off all disguise, threw prudence to the winds, threw the stool crash, bang through the glazed half of the door, and, with an alacrity born of frenzy, followed the stool into the street, as he himself was followed by his fidus Achates, the "Bull Pup." During a long course of years it might be said with truth that Dummy's infirmities of temper had kept pace with the infirmities of his flesh; but his disposition had at all times been rather sullen than passionate, and latterly his moroseness had sunk into habitual malignity. It was no slight sense of wrong or insult, we may be sure, which now smote every instinct of self-defence in his breast, and stung his stupid intellect to rage. It was no gentle shock, indeed, which now for a moment roused his paralyzed carcase into spasmodic life.

The immediate cause of his hostile movement was the posture of affairs outside. To pass by his house at all, though it was the only way to the park, was in itself a provocation not easily endured. The opportunity of sating his malice, by viewing from his peep-hole the disconcerted looks of the band, did counterbalance in some measure the irritating presence of so many natural enemies. But now, did his eye deceive him? Was he indeed awake? Not more than one-third drunk?

CHAPTER VI.
(RESUMED.)

THE spectacle in front was enough to beget à doubt of his own sanity, as well as to fill him with alarm. The bugle had sounded a pealing note, and with something less than military precision the whole array was stiffened to a standstill, right over against the "Bull Pup" front door.

After

a moment's silence, an awful silence, full of speechless warning, the redoubtable "eighteen," dressed in uniform-resplendent in white and blue, dazzling all eyes with the sheen of brass and gold leaf in their instruments and buttons respectively-stepped from the ranks by a side-movement; turned, obedient to another bugle-blast, right-about face, and fronted the astonished Mr. Bowler, who would just as soon have expected to be the target of a platoon-fire, as the despised mark for the stare of those six-and-thirty eyes. Advancing to the sound, if not the tune, of an equally solemn and loud air, the enemy made straight for the door. But, as we have seen, the ambushed Dummy had espied their audacious progress, and had rushed, like a ravening wolf or wounded bear, up the steps which led to the level of the street. At this point there was a pause-for the surprise of the whole thing was quite mutual—and more than one set of nerves, which had been well strung by the exhilarating strain, were thoroughly unstrung by the suddenness of the ugly vision before them.

The publican was, by dint of much experience, gifted both with presence of mind and animal courage. His foes, on the contrary, were extremely harmless-and he knew it. But

they were five hundred, or at least they were backed by that formidable number, while his only reserve was "Pup"many degrees more plucky than even magnanimous Bugle, but, alas! by many degrees still more harmless; and, besides, he remembered that his true weakness, after all, was the presence of the enemy in his rear; and as far as he could judge by the kicks, and cries, and groans in the snuggery, the attack from behind could not be long delayed. Simon was furious; and he evidently felt his strength and anger redoubled (as has been the case in all times with captive knights) by the very music which told him that succours were within earshot, although only passing by. There was an idea of shutters in the agitated mind of Mr. Bowler; but it was an idea (he muttered) more suited to a white-livered baker when bread is a shilling a loaf, than to the Van Amburgh of dogs. He whistled for Pup, who was already standing between his legs, glaring out on the menacing crowd, and getting his terrible growl in tune. This firmness of front-this hollow show of resistance-was quite enough to disconcert the bestarranged plan of attack in men whose hearts were cowed by the sight; and it is likely that the mere offer of fight would have been quite enough for the major part of the band, had there not been in their midst at least one stirring and mettlesome spirit. Bugle justified his reputation altogether, and very nearly justified his pretension, by the felicity and promptitude of his action at this time of suspense. At his suggestion (we need hardly say, for the thing speaks for itself) the drum was quickly unslung from the neck of Bommager rolled, tub-fashion, to some distance in advance-and set on end. A bricklayer's plank, hard by, was thrown across the drum; and then an elevation was secured which would serve either for a scaffold or a platform, as the occasion might require. At first it was a platform, on which Bugle took his stand, as the herald of the besieging army, to announce the casus belli and the terms of peace. Amidst decorous silence, broken only by the muffled shrieks of the incarcerated Simon, the bold tailor burst forth in these words of reproach against the fat culprit in front :-"I, Bugle, of the Select Band of the Friends of Home, publicly denounce thee, Dummy Bowler;

and brand thee, furthermore, as the enemy of all homes whatever, but chiefly, at this present, of the home of one Simon, our lamented Triangle" But here the corked-up wrath of Bowler and Pup burst all restraint. "Whis! whis! Pup, lass!" and the scabby beast rushed between the master's ill-settled legs with such violence as to throw him, like a huge landslip, all his length on the greasy stones. He fell with a dull bump-sprawled and wriggled, much like a seal on a smooth rock-then shrunk into the revolting stillness of death. Bugle looked like an assassin caught in the fact, and he felt, as he remembered ever after, all over white and cold. Dismay at the event was at first overpowering, and the appalled crowd might have been routed like craven sheep, had any policeman been present with the average quantity of wolf in his official soul. So long as the hapless monster lay stunned, the crowd was stunned too; but when he moved, and raised his bleared eye and swollen face, and gasped and belched his horrid blasphemy, they knew he was no worse; they felt relieved and pleased to hear him curse once more-it showed he had come to himself. To call him back to life, good Bugle, kind soul! would have sold his musical suit, and even, in the desperation of his anxiety, have pawned his instrument; but when the life revived, all his fast-vanishing mischief and retaliation came to him again, and he roared with laughter until the street rang again, and the bowels of his victim yearned for his blood. The fears of the crowd followed the fears of their leader, and with one heart and tongue they made amends for the panic to which they had so quickly succumbed. The corpulent sot slid, like one of his own barrels, end-ways down the greasy incline into the stinking gutter; his face hid its rainbow glories in a cloud of neutral tint; his clothes, which at their best were the very moral of filth, sucked up the standing nastiness of a month's collection; and even to the one or two whose hearts relented to see him wallowing there, the task of setting him on his legs again seemed useless, and the idea of carrying him too revolting; so that in all probability he would have lain during the rest of his natural life where he was, but for the ever fresh and ever fertile ingenuity of Bugle's hate-inflamed mind.