The knight mechanically complied with his request. " "We'll see that, young hempseed," replied Sharples, shutting the hatch furiously in his face, and locking it. Ruth returned to the table. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. “Well, anyhow, consider it open. Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. Water I need.
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