the anguish of the moment, one thought supports me, the consciousness
of having done my duty. (_Applause_.) I had an interview with
your deservedly favourite performer this morning, and every necessary
arrangement was made between us. I have sent to his hotel, and he is not
to be found. (_Disapprobation_.) I have been informed that he dined
early, and left the house, saying that he was going to the theatre; what
accident _can_ have prevented his arrival I am utterly unable to--"

Mr. Opie now happened to glance towards the stage box, surprise! doubt!
anger! certainty! were the alternate expressions of his pale face, and
widely opened eyes; and at length pointing to Dumps he exclaimed--

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my painful duty to inform you that Mr.
Liston is now before you; there he sits at the back of the stage box,
and I trust I may be permitted to call upon him for an explanation of
his very singular conduct."

Every eye turned towards Dumps, every voice was uplifted against him;
the man who could not endure the scrutiny of _one_ pair of eyes,
now beheld a house full of them glaring at him with angry indignation.
His head became confused, he had a slight consciousness of being elbowed
through the lobby, of a riot in the crowded street, and of being
protected by the civil authorities against the uncivil attacks of the
populace. He was conveyed to bed, and awoke the next morning with a very
considerable accession of nervous malady.

He soon heard that the whole town vowed vengeance against the infamous
and unprincipled impostor who had so impudently played off a practical
joke on the public, and at dead of night did he escape from the town of
Tewksbury, in a return mourning coach, with which he was accommodated