“Bravo!” exclaimed another, “that’s what I call handsome; let’s all kiss him, ladies.”

Vanslyperken was forced to go through this ordeal, and then the door was unlocked, but carefully guarded, while the several orders were given.

“Who is to pay for all this?” exclaimed the landlady.

“This gentleman treats us all,” replied the woman.

“Oh! very well—­is it all right, sir?”

Vanslyperken dared not say no:  he was in their power, and every eye watched him as he gave his answer; so he stammered out “Yes,” and, in a fit of despair at the loss of his money, he threw himself into his chair, and meditated revenge.

“Give Mr Vanslyperken his purse, Susan,” said the prudent Moggy to the young woman who had taken it out of his pocket.

The purse was returned, and, in a few minutes, the various liquors and mixtures demanded made their appearance, and the jollification commenced.  Every one was soon quite happy, with the exception of Mr Vanslyperken, who, like Pistol, ate his leek, swearing in his own mind he would be horribly revenged.

“Mr Vanslyperken, you must drink my health in some of this punch.”  Vanslyperken compressed his lips, and shook his head.  “I say yes, Mr Vanslyperken,” cried the virago, looking daggers; “if you don’t, we quarrel—­that’s all.”

But Vanslyperken argued in his mind that his grounds of complaint would be weakened, if he partook of the refreshment which he had been forced to pay for, so he resolutely denied.

“Von’t you listen to my harguments, Mr Vanslyperken?” continued the woman.  “Vell, then, I must resort to the last, which I never knew fail yet.”  The woman went to the fire and pulled out the poker, which was red hot, from between the bars.  “Now then, my beauty, you must kiss this, or drink some punch;” and she advanced it towards his nose, while three or four others held him fast on his chair behind; the poker, throwing out a glow of heat, was within an inch of the poor lieutenant’s nose:  he could stand it no more, his face and eyes were scorched.

“Yes, yes,” cried he at last, “if I must drink, then, I will.  We will settle this matter by-and-bye,” cried Vanslyperken, pouring down with indignation the proffered glass.

“Now, Susan, don’t ill-treat Mr Vanslyperken:  I purtest against all ill-treatment.”

“Ill-treat, Mrs Salisbury!  I am only giving him a lesson in purliteness.”

“Now, Mr What-the-devil’s-your-name, you must drink off a glass of my burnt brandy, or I shall be jealous,” cried another; “and when I am jealous I always takes to red-hot pokers.”  Resistance was in vain, the poker was again taken from between the bars, and the burnt brandy went down.

Again and again was Mr Vanslyperken forced to pour down his throat all that was offered to him, or take the chance of having his nose burnt off.

“Is it not wrong to mix your liquors in this way, Mr Vanslyperken?” said Moggy, in bitter mockery.