Nearing the entrance to the ball-room, he came to a conservatory, into
which Mr. Mole had strolled, or let us say staggered, and then dropped
into a seat.

Hunston glided in unperceived by Mole, and concealed himself behind
some thick shrubs close to him.

Mole was bent upon making himself comfortable.

The irrepressible bottle was out again.

"I feel," mumbled Mole, little thinking there was a listener near, "I
feel that I am a devil of a fellow. All the ladies love me, and all the
men fear me. I'm too much for anyone of them, ha, ha, ha! I've taken a
rise out of the devil himself."

Here he had a suck at the bottle.

"I'm getting quite familiar with evil spirits to-night," he said
grinning; "I don't think he will see me again in a hurry--he, he!" He
raised the bottle again to his lips, when a ghostly voice sounded in
his ear--

"Beware!"

He turned pale, and then got very red in the face.

"Who's there?" said Mole, looking nervously round; "come in, don't
knock; what a fool I am."