But you must have
heard it so often, that you can repeat it _verbatim_ to me, if you
have nothing more entertaining to say."
"I hope I could find topics more agreeable to us both," said L'Isle,
laughing and blushing. "But unluckily I have in my pocket Sir
Rowland's order to meet him there, and have intelligence he is waiting
for. I am afraid he will have to wait."
"I am afraid, he will," said Lady Mabel, coolly, "for I do not see how
you are to get out of the house now. By this time Moodie has bolted,
barred, and locked every door and window below, hidden the keys, and
gone to bed in his usual condition. He never can find them again,
until his head gets clear in the morning."
"What!" exclaimed L'Isle, "that respectable old man drunk every
night!"
"Not _every_ night!" said Lady Mabel. "But have you forgotten in what
condition he came back with us from Evora?"
"True. But I thought that an accident, and more the effect of sickness
than drinking. He seemed quite sober when you came home, and a graver
and more sedate man I do not know."
"O, he is a Presbyterian, you know, and the more liquor he swallows
the graver and more sanctimonious he becomes.
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