“All dreams are very disagreeable,” said the landlord. “Oh, very!” said the company. “D—n you all,” muttered Britton. The landlord now turned again to the company, and favoured them with another bit of facetiousness, which consisted in rubbing his left elbow and going through the motion of drinking in dumb show; and having so bespoken their kind and considerate attention, he turned to Britton, and added,— “Your worship’s majesty had just ordered cans of spiced canary all round, as you went off to sleep like a babe.” “Had I,” growled Britton; “I suppose they all had it then?” “No, no, no!” cried a chorus of voices. “Quite sure?” “Oh, quite.” “Then I’ll be d—d if you get it!” The landlord looked rather taken aback by this, and rubbed his chin in an abstracted manner with his apron, while the guests looked at each other in consternation. “What are you staring at, all of you?” cried Britton. “You have seen a gentleman, before, I suppose?” “Oh, yes—yes,” said everybody. “Then go to the devil while I go for a walk!” added Britton, staggering to the door, and as he passed out he muttered to himself,— “A dream! No, no—no dream. She will do me some mischief yet. I must kill her—curses on her; and he too. What did he want here? I know—it was Hartleton! But curse them all—I’ll be even with them yet. I should like to cut all their throats, and treat those beasts I have just left with cans all round of their blood! I’d make them drink—damme, I’d make them drink it!” CHAPTER XXXIV. The Fête.—Villany Prospers for a Season.—An Interruption.—The Dance. That night the halls of the princely residence of Learmont presented to the eye one blaze of light, brilliant costumes, costly decorations, and everything that his imagination could suggest as calculated to entrance the senses, and convey a notion of his boundless wealth and unlimited prodigality. Learmont was now in truth carrying out to its utmost the mode of life he had so often proposed to himself as that alone which could smother the stings of conscience, and by not allowing him time to think of the past, enable him to extract some enjoyment from the gaudy glittering present. To the entertainment which he now gave, he invited scores of persons which he knew only by name, but who scrupled not to accept the bidding of a man who was supposed to be rich beyond all comparison. There were members of Parliament—of both houses, holy ministers of the church, high legal functionaries. In fact, Learmont, from the mere rumour of his enormous wealth—a rumour which he had himself originated, and to which he lent countenance by his great expenses, found no difficulty in filling his saloons with all that were considered illustrious or great in the metropolis. Learmont was not a man to allow anything to be wanting at such an entertainment as that he was now giving. He possessed education, talent, and taste, although all were perverted by the utter absence of all moral feeling in his mind.