Among the rest, fortunately for Tallyho, (who stood balancing himself against the banisters in a state of indecision whether he should ascend or descend) Tom Dashall in his night-gown burst out of his room in alarm at the noise, with a brace of pistols, one in his hand in the very act of cocking it, and the other placed in convenient readiness under his left arm. “Why, what the devil is the matter?” vociferated he, and at that moment his eye caught the agitated figure of his Cousin Bob, on the half-landing place below him. At the sound of his well-known voice, the innocent and unsuspecting cause of this confusion and alarm looked up at his friend, as if half afraid and half ashamed of the occurrence, and stammered out, “Where is the thief?--Who is murdered?--I'll swear there is something broke somewhere--tell me which way to go!” Tom looked around him at the group of half-clad nymphs and swains, (who were now huddling together, conceiving their security lay in combination, and finding all eyes were placed with astonishment and wonder on Bob) began to see through what had happened, and burst into an immoderate fit of laughter; which relieved the frightened damsels, but so confounded poor Tallyho, that he scarcely knew whether he was standing on his head or his heels. “Why,” said Tom, addressing himself to his Cousin, “you will get yourself murdered if you go wandering about people's houses at the dead of the night in this manner--are you asleep or awake?--who have you made an assignation with--or ~49~~where are you going to--what are you up to, Master Bobby, eh?--These tricks won't do here!” “Is't Love's unhallow'd flame invites to roam, And bids you from your pillow creep? Or say, why thus disturb my peaceful home, Like Macbeth, who doth murder sleep.” Tallyho was unable to reply: he looked down over the banister--he looked up at the risible features of Tom Dashall, who was almost bursting at the ludicrous situation in which he found his friend and his servants. “Come,” said Tom, “there are no thieves--all's right”--to the servants, “you may quiet your minds and go to business. Bob, I'll be down with you presently.” Upon this, the stair-case was cleared in an instant of all but the unfortunate Tallyho; and peace appeared to be restored in the family, but not to Bob's mind, conceiving he had committed a gross violation of good breeding, and shewn but a bad specimen of his aptitude to become a learner of London manners. It must be confessed, it was rather an awkward commencement; however, in a few minutes, recovering himself from the fright, he crawled gently down the stairs, and took a survey of the devastation he had made--cursed the lamp, d----d the portmanteau--then snatching it from the ruin before him, and again placing his luggage on his shoulder, he quietly walked up stairs to his bed-room.