With Gammon’s help the cabman found his way to the Bilboes.

“Don’t get out,” he said to his companion.  “I’ll ask if he has come.”

Lord Polperro suddenly aroused himself and tumbled out of the vehicle; but for Gammon’s attention he would have fallen full length.  They entered together, and by a confused process of inquiry learnt that Greenacre was still absent.

“Does he live here?” Gammon asked of a waiter whom he had drawn aside.

“He has a bedroom, sir.”

Lord Polperro said that he felt a sudden faintness and must take refreshment.  Having drunk, he began to talk in a loud voice about his private affairs, addressing a stranger who sat by him and whom he took for Gammon.

“I shall stay here.  I shall certainly wait here for Greenacre.  I can’t run the risk of missing him to-night.”

Gammon caught him by the arm and persuaded him to come out into the passage; but the only result of this was that Lord Polperro dismissed the cab, repeating obstinately that he would wait Greenacre’s arrival.

“But ten to one he’s waiting for us down yonder,” urged Gammon.

“He won’t wait very long, and we shall pass him on the road if we go back now.  I tell you it is my pleasure to remain here!  You forget yourself, Gammon.  I know we are old friends, but you forget our positions.”

The man of commerce laughed contemptuously.

“Look here,” he said the next moment.  “Let’s walk as far as St. Paul’s and have a look at the crowd.”

“The crowd?  What crowd?”

When he had heard the explanation his lordship readily assented.  Certainly they would stroll as far as St. Paul’s and back again, by that time Greenacre might have come.  It seemed probable that when they had gone a little distance Lord Polperro would feel shaky and consent to take a cab.  Drink, however, had invigorated the man; he reeled a little and talked very huskily, but declared that the walk was enjoyable.

“Let’s go into the crowd, Gammon.  I like a crowd.  What are those bells ringing for?  Yes, yes, of course, I remember—­New Year’s Eve.  I had no idea that people came here to see the New Year in.  I shall come again.  I shall come every year; it’s most enjoyable.”

They entered the Churchyard and were soon amid a noisy, hustling throng, an assembly composed of clerks and countermen, roughs and pickpockets, with a sprinkling of well-to-do rowdies, and numerous girls or women, whose shrieks, screams, and yelps sounded above the deeper notes of masculine uproar.  Gammon, holding tight to his companion’s arm, endeavoured to pilot him in a direction where the crowd was thinnest, still moving westward; but Lord Polperro caught the contagion of the tumult and began pressing vehemently into the surging mass.

“This does me good, Gammon.  It’s a long time since I’ve mixed with people.  I always enjoyed a crowd.  Holloo—­o—­o!”