I can recall to this very hour the sensations of headache and misery with which I awoke the morning after this debauch. Backing pain it was, with a sort of tremulous beating all through the brain, as though a small engine had been set to work there, and that piston and boiler and connecting-rod were all banging, fizzing, and vibrating amid my fevered senses. I was, besides, much puzzled to know where I was, and how I had come there. Controversial divinity, genealogy, horse-racing, the peerage, and “double sixes” were dancing a wild cotillon through my brain; and although a waiter more than once cautiously obtruded his head into the room, to see if I were asleep, and as guardedly withdrew it again, I never had energy to speak to him, but lay passive and still, waiting till my mind might clear, and the cloud-fog that obscured my faculties might be wafted away. At last--it was towards evening--the man, possibly becoming alarmed at my protracted lethargy, moved somewhat briskly through the room, and with that amount of noise that showed he meant to arouse me, disturbed chairs and fire-irons indiscriminately. “Is it late or early?” asked I, faintly. “Tis near five, sir, and a beautiful evening,” said he, drawing nigh, with the air of one disposed for colloquy. I did n't exactly like to ask where I was, and tried to ascertain the fact by a little circumlocution. “I suppose,” said I, yawning, “for all that is to be done in a place like this, when up, one might just as well stay abed, eh?” “T is the snuggest place, anyhow,” said he, with that peculiar disposition to agree with you so characteristic in an Irish waiter. “No society?” sighed I. “No, indeed, sir.” “No theatre?” “Devil a one, sir.” “No sport?” “Yesterday was the last of the season, sir; and signs on it, his Lordship and the other gentleman was off immediately after breakfast.” “You mean Lord--Lord--” A mist was clearing slowly away, but I could not yet see clearly. “Lord Keldrum, sir; a real gentleman every inch of him.” “Oh! yes, to be sure,--a very old friend of mine,” muttered I. “And so he's gone, is he?” “Yes, sir; and the last word he said was about your honor.” “About me,--what was it?” “Well, indeed, sir,” replied the waiter, with a hesitating and confused manner, “I did n't rightly understand it; but as well as I could catch the words, it was something about hoping your honor had more of that wonderful breed of horses the Emperor of Roosia gave you.” “Oh, yes! I understand,” said I, stopping him abruptly. “By the way, how is Blondel--that is, my horse--this morning?” “Well, he looked fresh and hearty, when he went off this morning at daybreak--” “What do you mean?” cried I, jumping up in my bed. “Went off? where to?”