moments of silence which sometimes occur in the midst of the greatest
tumult, a succession of slow and measured taps sounded above the ceiling
of the banqueting-room. All remained silent, and listened.




CHAPTER XXI.

BRANDY TO THE RESCUE.

After the lapse of some seconds, the singular rapping which had so much
surprised the guests, was again heard, but this time louder and longer.

"Waiter!" cried one of the party, "what in the devil's name is knocking?"

The waiter, exchanging with his comrades a look of uneasiness and alarm,
stammered Out in reply: "Sir--it is--it is--"

"Well! I suppose it is some crabbed, cross-grained lodger, some animal,
the enemy of joy, who is pounding on the floor of his room to warn us to
sing less loud," said Ninny Moulin.

"Then, by a general rule," answered sententiously the pupil of the great
painter, "if lodger or landlord ask for silence, tradition bids us reply
by an infernal uproar, destined to drown all his remonstrances. Such, at
least," added the scapegrace, modestly, "are the foreign relations that I
have always seen observed between neighboring powers."

This remark was received with general laughter and applause. During the