“Then, they were demons themselves,” cried I, unable to contain my indignation. “And you, Mr. Huntingdon, it seems, were the first to tempt him.”
“Well, what could we do?” replied he, deprecatingly.—“We meant it in kindness—we couldn’t bear to see the poor fellow so miserable:—and besides, he was such a damper upon us, sitting there silent and glum, when he was under the threefold influence—of the loss of his sweetheart, the loss of his fortune, and the reaction of the lost night’s debauch; whereas, when he had something in him, if he was not merry himself, he was an unfailing source of merriment to us. Even Grimsby could chuckle over his odd sayings: they delighted him far more than my merry jests, or Hattersley’s riotous mirth. But one evening, when we were sitting over our wine, after one of our club dinners, and all had been hearty together—Lowborough giving us mad toasts, and hearing our wild songs, and bearing a hand in the applause, if he did not help us to sing them himself—he suddenly relapsed into silence, sinking his head on his hand, and never lifting his glass to his lips;—but this was nothing new; so we let him alone, and went on with our jollification, till, suddenly raising his head, he interrupted us in the middle of a roar of laughter by exclaiming—‘Gentlemen, where is all this to end?—Will you just tell me that now?—Where is it all to end?’ He rose.
“ ‘A speech, a speech!’ shouted we. ‘Hear, hear! Lowborough’s going to give us a speech!’
“He waited calmly till the thunders of applause and jingling of glasses had ceased, and then proceeded—‘It’s only this, gentlemen—that I think we’d better go no further. We’d better stop while we can.’
“ ‘Just so!’ cried Hattersley—
‘Stop, poor sinner, stop and think
Before you further go,
No longer sport upon the brink
Of everlasting woe.’
‘Stop, poor sinner, stop and think Before you further go, No longer sport upon the brink Of everlasting woe.’
“ ‘Exactly!’ replied his lordship, with the utmost gravity. ‘And if you choose to visit the bottomless pit, I won’t go with you—we must part company, for I swear I’ll not move another step towards it!—What’s this?’ he said, taking up his glass of wine.
“ ‘Taste it,’ suggested I.
“ ‘This is hell broth!’ he exclaimed. ‘I renounce it forever!’ And he threw it out into the middle of the table.