ague, whilst his very carbuncles became pallid with affright.
'You--u--u,' he stammered--'You--u--u, Wyatt: God forbid!'

Wyatt was, I saw, muddled with liquor. This was lucky for poor Lee.
'Well, never mind if it _was_ me, old brick,' rejoined the fellow; 'or
at least you have been a brick, though I'm misdoubting you'll die a
pantile after all. But here's luck; all's one for that.' He held a
pewter-pot in one hand, and a pipe in the other, and as he drank, his
somewhat confused but baleful look continued levelled savagely along
the pewter at the terrified doctor. There was, I saw, mischief in the
man.

'I'd drink yours,' continued the reckless scamp, as he paused for
breath, drew the back of his pipe-hand across his mouth, and stared as
steadily as he could in my face--'I'd drink your health, if I only
knew your name.'

'You'll hear it plainly enough, my fine fellow, when you're in the
dock one of these days, just before the judge sends you to the hulks,
or, which is perhaps the likelier, to the gallows. And this scamp,
too,' I added, with a gesture towards Lee, whom I hardly dared venture
to look at, 'who has been pitching me such a pretty rigmarole, is, I
see, a fellow-rogue to yourself. This house appears to be little
better than a thieves' rendezvous, upon my word.'

'Wyatt regarded me with a deadly scowl as he answered: 'Ay, ay, you're
a brave cock, Master Warneford, upon your own dunghill. It may be my
turn some day. Here, doctor, a word with you outside.' They both left
the room, and I rang the bell, discharged the score, and was just
going when Lee returned. He was still pale and shaky, though