Nobody was better fitted
than he to be in the chair at such a solemnity, and in the chair he was,
and therein did wonderful things. In putting the loyal toasts he spoke
for half an hour concerning the King's diplomacy, with a reference to
royal gout; which was at least unusual. And then, when the feast was far
advanced, he uprose, ignoring the toast list, and called upon the
assembled company to drink to Old England and Old Port for ever, and a
fig for gout! And after this, amid a genial informality, the
conversation of a knot of cronies at the Chair end of the table deviated
to the noble art of self-defence, and so to revolvers. And the alderman,
jolly but still aldermanic, produced his revolver, proving that it went
even with his dress-suit.
"Look here," said one. "Is it loaded?"
"Of course," said the alderman.
"Ball cartridge?"
"Of course," said the alderman.
"Well, would you mind putting it back in your pocket--with all this wine
and whisky about--"
The alderman complied, proud.
He was limping goutily home with the Vice, at something after midnight,
when, as they passed the stage-door of the Empire, both men were aware
of fearsome sounds within the building.
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