This, however, was his manner; and it was so embarrassing to John that
he sat quite passive for a long time, not knowing what to do. At length
he rose. Mr Haredale stared at him for a moment as though he had quite
forgotten his being present, then shook hands with him, and opened the
door. Hugh, who was, or feigned to be, fast asleep on the ante-chamber
floor, sprang up on their entrance, and throwing his cloak about him,
grasped his stick and lantern, and prepared to descend the stairs.
'Stay,' said Mr Haredale. 'Will this man drink?'
'Drink! He'd drink the Thames up, if it was strong enough, sir, replied
John Willet. 'He'll have something when he gets home. He's better
without it, now, sir.'
'Nay. Half the distance is done,' said Hugh. 'What a hard master you
are! I shall go home the better for one glassful, halfway. Come!'
As John made no reply, Mr Haredale brought out a glass of liquor, and
gave it to Hugh, who, as he took it in his hand, threw part of it upon
the floor.
'What do you mean by splashing your drink about a gentleman's house,
sir?' said John.
'I'm drinking a toast,' Hugh rejoined, holding the glass above his head,
and fixing his eyes on Mr Haredale's face; 'a toast to this house and
its master.
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