But the Surrey people who had advertised him stoutly contending that there was no impossibility in the case, assured him that all would be right; that he should play there first, then go to Sadler's Wells, and then to Covent Garden to finish the evening. To the end that he should be in good time at each house, it was proposed that a chaise, with the best horses that could be procured, should be provided, and held in readiness to carry him at the greatest possible speed from place to place. Not having the heart to disappoint the parties interested, he consented to this arrangement. At the Surrey, he played with Bologna in the pantomime; the moment it was over, he jumped into a chaise and four that was waiting at the door, and started for Sadler's Wells. Bologna accompanied him to see the issue of the proceeding, and, by dashing through the streets at a most extraordinary pace, they reached Sadler's Wells just at the commencement of the overture for the pantomime. Hurrying to re-paint his face, which had been very much bedaubed by the rain, which poured upon it, as he looked out of the chaise-window entreating the postboys to drive a little slower, and thrusting himself into the dress of the "Talking Bird," he was ready at the instant when the call-boy told him he was wanted. There still remained Covent Garden, and towards the close of the pantomime he grew very anxious, looking constantly towards the sides of the stage to see if Bologna was still there; for as he was the Perouse of the night, and was wanted a full half-hour before him, he felt something like security so long as he remained. At length the pantomime was over, and once more taking their seats in the same chaise, they drove at the same furious pace to Covent Garden, and were ready dressed and in the green-room before the first bars of the overture had been played. This change of dress assisted greatly in recovering him from his fatigue, and he went through the third part as well as the first, feeling no greater exhaustion at the close of the performances than was usual with him on an ordinary night. The only refreshment which he took during the whole evening was one glass of warm ale and a biscuit. He plumed himself very much on this feat; for although he had played clown at two theatres for twenty-eight nights successively, he considered it something out of the common way, and triumphed in it greatly. He had a specimen next day of the spirit which Fawcett still cherished towards him, and which, but for the kindness of Mr. Harris, might have injured him severely on many occasions. Applying as usual at the treasury for his weekly salary of ten pounds, he was informed by the treasurer, with great politeness and apparent regret, that he had received orders from Mr. Fawcett to stop it for that week. He instantly posted off in search of that gentleman, and upon finding him, requested to know why his salary was not to be paid.