The countenance of Mr. Raikes at the conclusion of this speech was a painful picture.  He knocked the table passionately, exclaiming: 

‘Who’d have thought it?’

Yet he had known it.  But he could not have thought it possible for a man to own it publicly.

Indeed, Evan could not have mentioned it, but for hot fury and the ale.  It was the ale in him expelling truth; and certainly, to look at him, none would have thought it.

‘That will do,’ said Laxley, lacking the magnanimity to despise the advantage given him, ’you have chosen the very best means of saving your skins.’

’We ‘ll come to you when our supply of clothes runs short,’ added Harry.  ‘A snip!’

‘Pardon me!’ said Evan, with his eyes slightly widening, ’but if you come to me, I shall no longer give you a choice of behaviour.  I wish you good-night, gentlemen.  I shall be in this house, and am to be found here, till ten o’clock to-morrow morning.  Sir,’ he addressed the chairman, ’I must apologize to you for this interruption to your kindness, for which I thank you very sincerely.  It ‘s “good-night,” now, sir,’ he pursued, bowing, and holding out his hand, with a smile.

The chairman grasped it:  ’You’re a hot-headed young fool, sir:  you’re an ill-tempered ferocious young ass.  Can’t you see another young donkey without joining company in kicks-eh?  Sit down, and don’t dare to spoil the fun any more.  You a tailor!  Who’ll believe it?  You’re a nobleman in disguise.  Didn’t your friend say so?—­ha! ha!  Sit down.’  He pulled out his watch, and proclaiming that he was born into this world at the hour about to strike, called for a bumper all round.

While such of the company as had yet legs and eyes unvanquished by the potency of the ale, stood up to drink and cheer, Mark, the waiter, scurried into the room, and, to the immense stupefaction of the chairman, and amusement of his guests, spread the news of the immediate birth of a little stranger on the premises, who was declared by Dr. Pillie to be a lusty boy, and for whom the kindly landlady solicited good luck to be drunk.

CHAPTER XIII

THE MATCH OF FALLOW FIELD AGAINST BECKLEY

The dramatic proportions to which ale will exalt the sentiments within us, and our delivery of them, are apt to dwindle and shrink even below the natural elevation when we look back on them from the hither shore of the river of sleep—­in other words, wake in the morning:  and it was with no very self-satisfied emotions that Evan, dressing by the full light of day, reviewed his share in the events of the preceding night.  Why, since he had accepted his fate, should he pretend to judge the conduct of people his superiors in rank?  And where was the necessity for him to thrust the fact of his being that abhorred social pariah down the throats of an assembly of worthy good fellows?  The answer was, that he had not accepted his fate:  that he considered himself as good a gentleman as any man living, and was in absolute hostility with the prejudices of society.  That was the state of the case:  but the evaporation of ale in his brain caused him to view his actions from the humble extreme of that delightful liquor, of which the spirit had flown and the corpse remained.