Chapter 45

           TurningfromtheTemplegateassoonasIhadreadthewarning,ImadethebestofmywaytoFleetStreet,andtheregotalatehackneychariotanddrovetotheHummumsinCoventGarden.Inthosetimesabedwasalwaystobegotthereatanyhourofthenight,andthechamberlain,lettingmeinathisreadywicket,lightedthecandlenextinorderonhisshelf,andshowedmestraightintothebedroomnextinorderonhislist.Itwasasortofvaultonthegroundfloorattheback,withadespoticmonsterofafour-postbedsteadinit,straddlingoverthewholeplace,puttingoneofhisarbitrarylegsintothefireplaceandanotherintothedoorway,andsqueezingthewretchedlittlewashing-standinquiteaDivinelyRighteousmanner.

           AsIhadaskedforanight-light,thechamberlainhadbroughtmein,beforeheleftme,thegoodoldconstitutionalrushlightofthosevirtuousdays.anobjectliketheghostofawalking-cane,whichinstantlybrokeitsbackifitweretouched,whichnothingcouldeverbelightedat,andwhichwasplacedinsolitaryconfinementatthebottomofahightintower,perforatedwithroundholesthatmadeastaringlywide-awakepatternonthewalls.WhenIhadgotintobed,andlaytherefootsore,weary,andwretched,IfoundthatIcouldnomoreclosemyowneyesthanIcouldclosetheeyesofthisfoolishArgus.Andthus,inthegloomanddeathofthenight,westaredatoneanother.

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