I was promptly conveyed to my destination; and, by some strange fatality, a new chief butler that very evening had succeeded the former “pantler” of Mr. Pryme. I was, of course, personally unknown to’ him; and having been discreetly slipped down the area steps, it was explained that “I was rather the worse of liquor, and had been mighty pugnacious into the bargain.” The butler took me on his back; and without let or hindrance, I was carried to the chamber of the absent Samuel--stripped--put to bed,--promised a bowl of whey--and left in undisputed possession of the dormitory of the drunken quaker. Two or three hours passed; and how the secret transpired I cannot guess. I was buried in profound sleep, when lights, flashed across my eyes and awakened me. Through an opening in the curtains I saw three females beside the bed; and I also discovered that the apartment was a strange one. Surprise or fear will sometimes remove the consequences of inebriety, and men become suddenly sober. I felt this singular effect. In a moment after I awoke, I was conscious that I had been lately a victim to “the rosy god,” and that I was now, in Irish parlance, “just in the very centre of a hobble.” Dipping my face beneath the counterpane, I murmured in a growling voice--“The lights! the lights! my head, my head!” “Ruth,” said the elder female, “remove the candles. Samuel! my son, what meaneth this? Art thou fallen?” “Yes,” I groaned; “I had a heavy fall, indeed.” “Ah! Samuel--would that that groan were the groan of sin, and not of suffering; and that thy conscience rather than thy stomach were moved. Speak! How did the enemy overtake thee? Where did he enclose thee in his net?” I dipped my head beneath the bed coverings, and, in a husky voice, muttered--“The barracks in George’s-street.” “Mercy on us!--Ruth--Rachel. It is the large brick building in which abide godless men in scarlet. And how, Samuel, did the evil one achieve thy fall?” “One said I was floored by a charlie, and another left it upon a clip from a blackthorn.” “No, no, Samuel; I ask the carnal means. Was it by that soul-destroying liquor, wine, or was it by worse?” “Worse, worse,” I mumbled in reply. “Oh dear!” ejaculated Mrs. Pryme. “Ah me!” responded the gentle Rachel. “Alack, alack! continued the conscientious Ruth. “Name the snare of the tempter.” “I’m too bashful,” I grumbled. Nay, Samuel. Close thy ears, Ruth--avert thy head, Rachel; he would not have his shame revealed. Was it, Samuel, a dancing Herodias--or some Delilah, with bewitching looks! “No, no; worse, worse.” “Mercy on us! Speak, and name the fatal cause.” “Punch--punch!--Whisky new--the kettle not boiled--and too much acid,” came grumbling from below the blankets. “How fearful is inebriety! Thy very voice, my son, is changed. But verily, as it is thy first offending, I will pardon it, and give thee the kiss of peace.”