The landlord now made his appearance, and seeing the city’s guest in such a plight, inquired into the cause, but could get no satisfactory account of it; and being scrupulous of the reputation of his house, he enjoined them to keep the affair as quiet as possible, lest it get to the ear of the editors, who would take great pride in using it to his damage.  He then closed the door and endeavored to raise the major to his feet, but he was so like a dead man, and had lost so much good red blood, that the landlord became seriously alarmed, and had a doctor, who boarded in his house, at once called in.  The doctor, when he had felt his pulse and ribs for some time, said the case was a little doubtful, but he had skill enough to mend it.  Indeed, to tell the truth, it only required a plaster or two, and a purgative, to restore him to perfect health.  When the major had gained the use of his tongue, however, he declared he had at least seven broken ribs, and he knew not how many cracks in his skull, for it felt like a fractured cocoanut.

And while the doctor was administering his balms to the patient, the Georgian was endeavoring to pacify his wife, who, with the aid of hartshorn and sundry other restoratives, was in a fair way of recovery.  General Benthornham, in the meantime, continued to pace the room, so much absorbed in his endeavor to preserve the peace of the house, as to be unconscious of the figure he was cutting.

“And now, gentlemen,” said the general, in a foggy voice, “as the lady has received no damage, either to her reputation or person, and you are both gentlemen, I think the little affair can be reconciled, if the major will but explain the mistake with as much delicacy as he is capable of.”

“Indeed,” replied the major, “I am sure the gentleman will be satisfied that I meant no wrong to his lady, who I thought had got into my room instead of my getting into her’s, by mistake as it turns out, when I tell him how it happened.  The people where I was raised know me for a peaceable man; and now that I have become a politician, it behooves me to take care of what little character I have, which is not the case with all of them.  And God knows I treated the lady with courtesy; for, rather than prove unfaithful to my wife Polly, I bid her take herself away.”  The major said this in such a tone of humility, that although it left the matter more confounded in the Georgian’s mind, it so affected his feelings that he began to regret having dealt so severely with him, and earnestly desired to know the origin of the affair, which the major at once related with great simplicity of manner, and finally, laid all the blame to the strength of the liquor he had indulged in during the evening.  General Benthornham had, in the meantime, taken a seat where the bright glare of the gas shone full upon his face, and as the major proceeded with his narrative, would every now and then interpose an approving, “See that now!”