At this, Jacques, who stood ready for battle by the entrance, wheeled round, shot a look at his master, and dropping his point, made a sign to me to do the same. The door was thrust rudely open, and Captain Settle, his hat cock’d over one eye, and sham drunkenness in his gait, lurched into the room, with the whole villainous crew behind him, huddled on the threshold. Jacques and I stepp’d quietly back, so as to cover the girl. [Illustration: The door was thrust rudely open.—Page 88.] “Would you mind waiting a moment?” inquir’d Sir Deakin, without looking up, but rubbing the nutmeg calmly up and down the grater: “a fraction too much, and the whole punch will be spoil’d.” It took the Captain aback, and he came to a stand, eyeing us, who look’d back at him without saying a word. And this discomposed him still further. There was a minute during which the two parties could hear each other’s breathing. Sir Deakin set down the nutmeg, wiped his thin white fingers on a napkin, and address’d the Captain sweetly— “Before asking your business, sir, I would beg you and your company to taste this liquor, which, in the court of France”—the old gentleman took a sip from the mixing ladle—“has had the extreme honor to be pronounced divine.” He smack’d his lips, and rising to his feet, let his right hand rest on the silver foot of the lamp as he bowed to the Captain. Captain Settle’s bravado was plainly oozing away before this polite audacity: and seeing Sir Deakin taste the punch, he pull’d off his cap in a shamefaced manner and sat down by the table with a word of thanks. “Come in, sirs—come in!” call’d the old gentleman; “and follow your friend’s example. ’Twill be a compliment to make me mix another bowl when this is finish’d.” He stepped around the table to welcome them, still resting his hand on the lamp, as if for steadiness. I saw his eye twinkle as they shuffled in and stood around the chair where the Captain was seated. “Jacques, bring glasses from the cupboard yonder! And, Delia, fetch up some chairs for our guests—no, sirs, pray do not move!” He had waved his hand lightly to the door as he turned to us: and in an instant the intention as well as the bright success of this comedy flash’d upon me. There was now no one between us and the stairs, and as for Sir Deakin himself, he had already taken the step of putting the table’s width between him and his guests. I touch’d the girl’s arm, and we made as if to fetch a couple of chairs that stood against the wainscot by the door. As we did so, Sir Deakin push’d the punch bowl forward under the Captain’s nose. “Smell, sir,” he cried airily, “and report to your friends on the foretaste.”