There is no epidemic more catching than excitement. The fussy manner
and feverish bustle of the people about you are sure, after a time, to
communicate themselves to you--the very irritation they create being
what the physicians call a predisposing cause. I became an illustration
in point, as the hour of this ball drew nigh. At first I could not but
wonder how in the midst of such stupendous events as were then taking
place--in the heart of a city garrisoned by an enemy, with everything
that could wound national pride and offend national honour--even French
levity could raise itself to the enjoyment of fashionable frivolity; but
by degrees the continual recurrence of the subject familiarised my mind
to it» wearing off my first and more natural impressions, and at last I
began, like my neighbours, not only to listen with patience, but even to
join in the various discussions with animation and interest.
No sooner had the report gained currency that Lady Charlotte was in
possession of blank invitations, than our hotel was besieged by half
Paris--the unfortunate endeavouring, by every species of flattery
and every imaginable stratagem, to obtain tickets; the lucky ones all
anxious to find out the mystery of her ladyship's success, which at
first seemed almost incredible. The various surmises, guesses,
hints, allusions, and subterfuges which followed one another in rapid
succession, as this motley mob of fashionables came and went, and went
and came again, amused me considerably--the more so, perhaps, as the
occasion called into full play all my cousin Julia's powers of flippant
raillery and sarcasm, both of which she exercised without scruple, but
never within range of discovery by any of her victims.
Everything gave way to the convenience of this splendid _fête_. The
eight o'clock dinner was anticipated by full two hours; no other subject
of conversation was ever broached by the company; and at nine the
carriages were ordered to the door, it being wisely calculated that
if we reached our destination at eleven we should esteem ourselves
fortunate.
How often, as the dashing equipage whirls past to some scene of
pleasure, where beauty and rank and riches await the sated votary of
fashion, will the glare of the carriage-lamps fall upon the gloomy
footway, where, wet and weary, some melancholy figure steals along
with downcast head and plodding step, his thoughts turned ever to
some accustomed scene of wretchedness, where want and misery, disease,
neglect, decay, all herd together, and not even hope can enter! The
poor man, startled, looks up; the rich one, lolling back upon his easy
cushion, casts a downward glance; their eyes meet--it is but a second;
there is no sympathy between them--the course of one lies north, the
other south. Thus at each moment did my sad heart turn away from all the
splendour of the preparation about me, to wonder with myself how even
for an instant I could forget my own path in life, which, opening with
every prospect of happiness, yet now offered not a hope for the future.
Between these two alternate states the hours crept on. As I sat beside
Julia in the carriage, I could not but mark that something weighed also
on her spirits. More silent than usual, she replied, when spoken to,
with effort; and more than once returned wrong answers to my mother, who
talked away unceasingly of the ball and the guests.
It was near midnight when we drove into the large archway of the Hôtel
de Rohan, where Madame de Roni held her court. Brilliantly lighted with
lamps of various colours, the very equipages were made a part of the
spectacle, as they shone in bright and changeful hues, reflected from
gorgeous housings, gilded trappings, and costly liveries. A large,
dark-coloured travelling-carriage, with a single pair of horses, stood
in the corner of the court, the only thing to distinguish it being two
mounted light dragoons who waited beside it, and a chasseur in green and
gold uniform who stood at the door. This simple equipage belonged to
the King of Prussia. Around on every side were splendidly appointed
carriages, glittering with emblazonry and gilding, from which, as the
guests descended and entered the marble vestibule, names of European
celebrity were called out and repeated from voice to voiqe along the
lofty corridors. Le Prince de Schwartzenberg, Count Pozzo di Borgo,
Le Duc de Dal-berg, Milord Cathcart, Le Comte de Nesselrode, Monsieur
Talleyrand de Perigord, with others equally noble and exalted, followed
in rapid succession.
Our turn came at last; and as we reached the hall we found O'Grady
waiting for our arrival.
'There 's no use in attempting to get forward for some time,' said he;
'so follow me, and I'll secure you a more comfortable place to wait in.'
As he spoke he passed through the hall, and, whispering a few words to a
servant, a door was opened in the wainscot, admitting us to a small and
neatly-fitted-up library, where a good fire and some easy-chairs awaited
us.
'I see your surprise,' said O'Grady, as my mother looked about her with
astonishment at his perfect acquaintance with the whole locality; 'but
I can't explain--it's part of my secret. Meanwhile, Jack, I have another
for your ear,' said he, in a low whisper, as he drew me aside into a
corner. 'I have made a very singular discovery, Jack, to-day, and I
have a notion it may lead to more. I met, by accident, at the
Adjutant-General's table, the brother of a French officer whose life I
saved at Nivelle; he remembered my name in a moment, and we became sworn
friends. I accepted his offer of a seat in his carriage to this ball,
and on the way he informed me that he was the chief of the secret police
of Paris, whose business it is to watch all the doings of the regular
police and report upon them to Fouché, whose spies are in every salon
and at every dinner-table in the capital I have no time at present to
repeat any of the extraordinary stories he told me of this horrible
system; but just as we entered the courtyard of this hotel, our carriage
was jammed up in the line and detained for some minutes. Guillemain
suddenly let down the glass, and gave a low, peculiar whistle, which,
if I had not been paying considerable attention to everything about him,
might have escaped my notice. In about a minute after a man, with a
hat slouched over his face, and a large cravat covering his mouth,
approached the carriage. They conversed together for some time, and I
could perceive that the new-comer spoke his French in a broken manner
and with a foreign accent. By a slight movement of the horses one of the
lamps threw the light full upon this man's face; I fixed my eyes rapidly
on him, and recognised--whom, think you? But you'd never guess: no other
than your old antagonist, Ulick Burke!'
'Ulick Burke! You must have been mistaken.'
'No, no. I knew him at once; the light rested on him for full five
minutes, and I had time enough to scan every feature of his face. I
could swear to the man now. He left us at last, and I watched him till
he disappeared among the crowd of servants that filled the courtyard.'
'“That's one of your people,” said I carelessly, as Guillemain drew up
the glass, and sat back in the carriage.
'“Yes, and a thorough scoundrel he is--capable of anything.”
'“He's not French,” said I, with the same indifference of manner I had
feigned at first.
'Guillemain started as I spoke; and I half feared I had destroyed all by
venturing too much. At length, after a short pause, he replied: “You're
right, he's not French; but we have them of all nations--Poles, Swedes,
Germans, Italians, Greeks. That fellow is English.”
'“Say Irish, rather,” said I, determining to risk all, to know all.
'“You know him, then?” said Guillemain hurriedly; “where did you see
Fitzgerald?”
'“Fitzgerald!” said I, repeating the name after him; and then affecting
disappointment, added, “That's not the name.”
'“Ha! I knew you were mistaken,” said Guillemain, with animation; “the
fellow told me he defies recognition; and I certainly have tried him
often among his countrymen, and he has never been detected. And yet he
knows the English thoroughly and intimately. It was through him that I
first found out these very people we are going to.”
'Here, Jack, he entered upon a long account of our worthy hosts, who
with great wealth, great pretensions, and as great vulgarity came to
Paris some weeks ago in that mighty flood of all sorts of people that
flocked here since the peace. Their desire to be ranked among the
fashionable entertainers of the day was soon reported to the minister
of police, who, after considering how far such a house might be useful,
where persons of all shades of political opinion might meet--friends of
the Bourbons, Jacobites, Napoleonists, the men of '88, and the admirers
of the old _régime_--measures were accordingly taken that their
invitations should go out to the first persons in Paris, and, more
still, should be accepted by them.
'While these worthy people are therefore distributing their
hospitalities with all the good faith imaginable, their hotel is nothing
more nor less than a _cabinet de police_, where Fouché and his agents
are unravelling the intrigues of Paris, or weaving fresh ones for their
own objects.'
'Infamous system! But how comes it, Phil, that they have never
discovered their anomalous position?'
'What a question, Jack! Vulgar pretension is a triple shield that no eye
can pierce; and as you know the parties----'
'Know them! no, I never heard of them before.' 'What, Jack! Is your
memory so short-lived? And yet there was a pretty girl in the house who
might have rested longer in your memory.'
The announcement of Lady Charlotte and my cousin's names by the servant
at the foot of the stairs broke up our conference; and we had only time
to join our party as we fell into that closely-wedged phalanx that wound
its slow length up the spacious staircase. O'Grady's last words had
excited my curiosity to the highest pitch; but as he preceded me with my
mother on his arm, I was unable to ask for an explanation.
At last we reached the ante-chamber, from which a vista of salons
suddenly broke upon the view; and although anticipating much, I had
formed no conception whatever of the splendour of the scene before me.
More brilliant than noonday itself, the room was a blaze of wax-lights;
the ceilings of fretted gold and blue enamel glittered like a gorgeous
firmament; the walls were covered with pictures in costly frames of
Venetian taste. But the decorations, magnificent and princely as they
were, were as nothing to that splendid crowd of jewelled dames and
glittering nobles, of all that was distinguished in beauty, in rank, in
military glory, or in the great contest of political life. Here were
the greatest names of Europe--the kings and princes of the earth, the
leaders of mighty armies, the generals of a hundred battles; here was
the collective greatness of the world, all that can influence
mankind--hereditary rank, military power, stupendous intellect, beauty,
wealth--mixing in the vast vortex of fashionable dissipation, and
plunging into all the excesses of voluptuous pleasure. The band of the
Imperial Guard stationed near the staircase were playing with all the
delicious softness of their national instrument--the Russian horn--a
favourite mazurka of the emperor as we entered, and a partial silence
reigned among the hundred listeners.
O'Grady conveyed my mother through the crowd to a seat, where, having
placed my cousin beside her, he once more came near me.
'Jack,' whispered he, 'come a little this way.' He drew aside a curtain
as he spoke, and we entered a boudoir, where a buffet of refreshments
was placed. Here the scene was ludicrous in the extreme, from the
incongruous mixture-of persons of so many nations and languages who
were chatting away and hobnobbing to one another in all the dismembered
phrases of every tongue in Europe; loud laughter, however, poured
from one corner of the room, whither O'Grady directed his steps, still
holding my arm. A group of Cossack officers in full scarlet costume,
their loose trousers slashed with gold embroidery and thrust into wide
boots of yellow leather, stood in a circle round a person whom we could
not yet perceive, but who, we were enabled to discover, was exercising
his powers of amusement for this semi-savage audience, whose wild shouts
of laughter broke forth at every moment. We made our way at length
through the crowd, and my eyes at last fell upon the figure within. I
stared; I rubbed my eyes; I actually began to doubt my very senses, when
suddenly turning his joyous face beaming with good-humour towards me, he
held forth his hand and called out, 'Captain, my darling, the top of the
morning to you. This beats Stephen's Green, doesn't it?'
[Illustration: 3-164]
'Mr. Paul Rooney!' said I.
'No, no! Monsieur de Roni, if you please,' said he, again breaking out
into a fit of laughing. 'Lord help you, man, I've been christened since
I came abroad. Let me present you to my friends.' Here Paul poked a tall
Cossack in the ribs to attract his attention, and then pointing to
me, said: 'This is Captain Hinton; his name's a poser--a cross between
chincough and a house-key. Eh, old fellow?'
A Tartar grin was the reply to this very intelligible speech; but a
bumper of champagne made everything comprehensible between them. Mr.
Rooney's hilarity soon showed me that he had not forgotten his native
habits, and was steadily bent upon drinking glass for glass with his
company, even though they only came in detachments. With Bashkir
chiefs, Pomeranian barons, Rhine graaf s, and Polish counts he seemed as
intimate as though he had passed as much of his time in the Caucasus as
the Four Courts, and was as familiar with the banks of the Don as ever
he had been with those of the Dodder.
'And is it really our old friend Mrs. Paul who entertains this host of
czars and princes?'
'Is it really only now that you've guessed it?' said O'Grady, as he
carried me away with him through the salon. 'But I see Lady Charlotte is
amongst her friends, and your cousin is dancing; so now let's make the
most of our time. I say, Jack, your lady-mother scarcely supposes that
her host is the same person she once called on for his bill. By Jove,
what a discovery it would be to her! and the little girl she had such a
horror of is now the belle of Paris. You remember Louisa Bellew, don't
you? Seven thousand a year, my boy, and beauty worth double the money.
But there she is, and how handsome!'
As he spoke, a lady passed us leaning on her partner's arm, her head
turned slightly over her shoulder. I caught but one glance, and as I did
so, the rushing torrent of blood that mounted to my face made my very
brain grow dizzy. I knew not where I stood. I sprang forward to speak
to her, and then became rooted to the ground. It was she, indeed, as
beautiful as ever; her pale face wore the very look I had last seen the
night I saved her from the flood.
'Did you observe her companion?' said O'Grady, who fortunately had not
noticed my confusion. 'It was De Vere. I knew he was here; and I suspect
I see his plans.'
'De Vere!' said I, starting. 'De Vere with Miss Bellew! Are you
certain?'
'Quite certain; I seldom mistake a face, and his I can't forget. But
here's Guillemain. I'll join you in a moment.'
So saying, O'Grady left my side, and I saw him take the arm of a small
man in black, who was standing at a doorway. The rush of sensations that
crowded on me as I stood there alone made me forget the time, and I knew
not that O'Grady had been above half an hour away when he again came to
my side.
'How the plot thickens, Hinton!' said he, in a low whisper. 'Only think,
the villain Burke has actually made the hand and fortune of that lovely
girl the price of obtaining secret information from De Vere of the
proceedings of the British embassy. Guillemain did not confess this
to me; but he spoke in such a way, that, with my knowledge of all the
parties, I made out the clue.'
'Burke! but what influence has he over her?'
'None over her, but much over the Rooneys, whom, independent of threats
about exposing their real condition in life, he has persuaded that such
a marriage for their ward secures them in fashionable society for ever.
This with Paul would do nothing; but Madame de Roni, as you know, sets
a high price on such a treasure. Besides, he is in possession of some
family secret about her mother, which he uses as a means of intimidation
to Paul, who would rather die than hurt Miss Bellew's feelings. Now,
Jack, De Vere only wants intellect to be as great a scoundrel as Master
Ulick, so we must rescue this poor girl, come what will.'
'We must and we will,' said I, with a tone of eagerness that made O'Grady
start.
'Not a moment is to be lost,' said he, after a brief pause. 'I 'll try
what can be done with Guillemain.'
An opening of the crowd as he spoke compelled us to fall back, and as we
did so I could perceive that an avenue was made along the room.
'One of the sovereigns,' whispered O'Grady.
I leaned forward, and perceived two aides-de-camp in green uniform, who
were retreating step by step slowly before some persons farther back.
'The Emperor of Russia,' whispered a voice near me; and the same instant
I saw the tall and fine-looking figure of Alexander, his broad
massive forehead, and frank manly face turning from side to side as
he acknowledged the salutations of the room. On his arm he supported a
lady, whose nodding plumes waved in concert with every inclination of
the Czar himself. Curious to see what royal personage shared thus with
him the homage of the assembly, I stooped to catch a glance. The lady
turned--our eyes met; a slight flush coloured her cheek as she quickly
moved her head away. It was Mrs. Paul Rooney herself! Yes, she whom I
had once seen with an effort subdue her pride of station when led in to
dinner by some Irish attorney-general, or some going judge of assize,
now leaned on the arm of an emperor, and divided with him the honours of
the moment!
While O'Grady sought out his new friend, the minister of police, I went
in search of my mother and Lady Julia, whom I found surrounded by a knot
of their own acquaintances, actively engaged in surmises as to the lady
of the house--her rank, fortune, and pretensions. For some time I could
not but feel amused at the absurd assertions of many of the party, who
affected to know all about Madame de Roni and her secret mission at
Paris.
'My dear John,' said my mother in a whisper, 'you must find out all
about her. Your friend, the Colonel, is evidently in the secret. Pray,
now, don't forget it. But really you seem in a dream. There's Beulwitz
paying Julia all the attention imaginable the entire evening, and you
've never gone near her. Apropos, have you seen this ward of Madame
de Roni? She is very pretty, and they speak of her as a very suitable
person.' (This phrase was a kind of cant with my mother and her set,
which expressed in brief that a lady was enormously rich and a very
desirable match for a man with nothing.) 'I forget her name.'
'Miss Bellew, perhaps,' said I, trembling lest any recollection of ever
having heard it before should cross her mind.
'Yes, that's the name; somehow it seems familiar to me. Do you know her
yet, for my friend Lady Middleton knows every one, and will introduce
you?'
'Oh, I have the pleasure of being acquainted with her already,' said I,
turning away to hide my confusion.
'That's quite proper,' said her ladyship encouragingly. 'But here she
comes; I think you must introduce me, John.'
As my mother spoke, Louisa Bellew came up, leaning on a lady's arm.
A moment's hesitation on my part would have only augmented the
embarrassment which increased at every instant; so I stepped forward and
pronounced her name. No sooner had the words 'Miss Bellew' escaped
my lips than she turned round; her large full eyes were fixed upon me
doubtingly for a second, and her face grew deep scarlet, and then as
suddenly pale again. She made an effort to speak, but could not; a
tottering weakness seemed to creep over her frame, and as she pressed
her companion's arm closely I heard her mutter--'Oh, pray move on!'
'Lady Charlotte Hinton--'Miss Bellew,' said the lady at her side, who
had paid no attention whatever to Louisa's agitated manner.
My mother smiled in her sweetest manner, while Miss Bellow's
acknowledgments were made with the most distant coldness.
'My son had deemed himself fortunate enough to be known to you,' said
Lady Charlotte.
Miss Bellew became pale as death; her very lips were bloodless, as with
a voice tremulous with emotion, she replied--
'We were acquainted once, madam; but----'
What was to be the remainder of the speech I know not, for as the crowd
moved on she passed with it, leaving me like one whose senses were
forsaking him one by one. I could only hear my mother say, 'How very
impertinent!' and then my brain became a chaos. A kind of wild reckless
feeling, the savage longing that in moments of dark passion stirs within
a man for some act of cruelty, some deed of vengeance, ran through my
breast. I had been spurned, despised, disowned by her of whom through
many a weary month my heart alone was full. I hurried away from the spot,
my brain on fire. I saw nothing, I heeded nothing, of the bright looks
and laughing faces that passed me; scornful pity and contempt for one
so low as I was seemed to prevail in every face I looked at. A strange
impulse to seek out Lord Dudley de Vere was uppermost in my mind; and as
I turned on every side to find him, I felt my arm grasped tightly, and
heard O'Grady's voice in my ear--
'Be calm, Jack, for heaven's sake! Your disturbed looks make every one
stare at you.'
He drew me along with him through the crowd, and at length reached a
card-room, where, except the players, no one was present.
'Come, my dear boy, I saw what has annoyed you.'
'You saw it!' said I, my eyeballs straining as I spoke.
'Yes, yes; and what signifies it? So very handsome a girl, and the
expectation of a large fortune, must always have followers. But you know
Lady Julia well enough----'
'Lady Julia!' repeated I, in amazement.
'Yes. I say you know her well enough to believe that Beulwitz is not
exactly the person----'
A burst of laughter at his mistake broke from me at the moment; but so
wild and discordant was it that O'Grady misconstrued its meaning, and
went at some length to assure me that my cousin's affection for me was
beyond my suspicion.
Stunned by my own overwhelming sorrow, I felt no inclination to
undeceive him, and let him persist in his error without even a word of
reply.
'Rouse yourself, Jack,' said he, at length. 'This depression is unworthy
of you, had you even cause for grief. There's many a heart heavier than
your own, my boy, where the lip is smiling this minute.'
There was a tone of deep affliction in the cadence of his voice as
these words fell from him, and he turned away his head as he spoke. Then
rallying in an instant, he added--
'Do you know, our dear friend Mrs. Paul has scarcely ventured to
acknowledge me to-night, and I feel a kind of devilish spirit of
vengeance working within me in consequence. To out me! I that trained
her infant mind to greatness; that actually smuggled for her a
contraband viceroy, and brought him alive into her dominions! What dire
ingratitude! Come, what say you to champagne?'
He poured me out a large glassful as he spoke, and, filling his own,
called out, laughing--
'Here, I give you a toast--“La Vendetta!” eh, Jack? Corsican vengeance
on all who maltreat us!'
Glass after glass followed; and I felt my brain, instead of being
excited, grow calmer, steadier; a firm and determined resolution usurped
the flitting thoughts and wandering fancies of before.
'They're moving towards the supper-room,' said O'Grady, who for some
time past had talked away, without my paying any attention to what he
said.
As we descended the stairs, I heard my mother's carriage announced, and
could just see her and my cousin handed to it by some Austrian officers
as we entered the supper-room.
The incessant crash and din of the enormous banquet-ing-room, its crowd
and heat, its gorgeous table-equipage and splendid guests, were scarce
noticed by me as I followed O'Grady half mechanically towards the end of
the room. For some time I remained stupidly unconscious of all around;
and it was only after a very considerable time that I descried that
immediately in front of where we stood Mrs. Paul Rooney was seated--the
Emperor of Russia on her right, the King of Prussia on her left hand;
Swartzenburg, Blucher, Talleyrand, Nesselrode, and many others equally
distinguished occupying places along the board. Her jocund laugh and
merry voice, indeed, first attracted my attention.
'By Jove! she does it admirably,' said O'Grady, who for full five
minutes had been most critically employed scrutinising Mrs. Paul's
manner. 'Do you remark the tact with which she graduates her attentions
to the emperor and the king? And look at the hauteur of her bearing to
old Blucher! But, hush! what's coming?'
A kind of suppressed murmur buzzed along the crowded room, which,
subsiding into a dead silence, the Emperor Alexander rose, and
addressing the guests in a few but well-chosen words in English,
informed them he had received permission from their amiable and
captivating hostess to propose a toast, and he took the opportunity with
unqualified delight to give the health of 'the Prince Regent.' A perfect
thunder of applause acknowledged this piece of gracious courtesy, and
a 'hip! hip! hurrah!' which astonished the foreigners, shook the very
roof. While the deafening shouts rose on every side, Mrs. Paul wrote a
line with her pencil hastily on her card, and turning round gave it to a
Cossack aide-de-camp of the emperor to deliver into Mr. Rooney's hands.
Either from the excitement of the moment or his imperfect acquaintance
with English, the unlucky Cossack turned for an explanation towards the
first British officer near him, who happened to be O'Grady.
'What does this mean?' said he in French.
'Ah,' said Phil, looking at it, 'this is intended for that gentleman
at the foot of the table. You see him yonder--he's laughing now. Come
along, I'll pilot you towards him.'
Suspecting that O'Grady's politeness had some deeper motive than mere
civility, I leaned over his shoulder and asked the reason of it.
'Look here,' said he, showing me the card as he spoke, on which was
written the following words: 'Make the band play “God Save the King “;
the emperor wishes it.'
'Come with us, Jack,' whispered O'Grady; 'we had better keep near the
door.'
I followed them through the dense crowd, who were still cheering with
all their might, and at last reached the end of the table, where Paul
himself was amusing a select party of Tartar chiefs, Prussian colonels,
Irish captains, and Hungarian nobles.
'Look here,' said Phil, showing me the card, which in his passage down
the room he had contrived to alter, by rubbing out the first part and
interpolating a passage of his own; making the whole run thus--
'Sing the “Cruiskeen Lawn”; the emperor wishes it.'
I had scarcely time to thrust my handkerchief to my mouth and prevent an
outbreak of laughter, when I saw the Cossack officer present the card to
Paul with a deep bow. Mr. Rooney read it--surveyed the bearer; read it
again--rubbed his eyes, drew over a branch of wax-candles to inspect
it better, and then, directing a look to the opposite extremity of
the table, exchanged glances with his spouse, as if interrogating her
intentions once more. A quick, sharp nod from Mrs. Paul decided the
question thus tacitly asked; and Paul, clearing off a tumbler of sherry,
muttered to himself, 'What the devil put the “Cruiskeen Lawn” into his
Majesty's head I can't think; but I suppose there's no refusing.*
A very spirited tapping with the handle of his knife was now heard to
mix with the other convivial sounds, and soon indeed to overtop them, as
Paul, anxious to fulfil a royal behest, cleared his throat a couple of
times, and called out, 'I'll do the best I can, your Majesty'; and at
once struck up--
'Let the farmer praise his grounds,
Let the huntsman praise his hounds,
And talk of the deeds they had done;
But I more blest than they----'
Here Paul quavered, and at last the pent-up mirth of the whole room
could endure no more, but burst forth into one continuous shout of
laughter, in which kings, dukes, ambassadors, and field-marshals joined
as loudly as their neighbours. To hear the song was utterly impossible;
and though from Mr. Paul's expanded cheeks and violent gesticulation it
was evident he was in full chant, nothing could be heard save the scream
of laughing which shook the building--an emotion certainly not the
less difficult to repress, as Mrs. Paul, shaking her hand at him with
passionate energy, called out--
'Oh, the baste! he thinks he's on circuit this minit!' As for myself,
half choking and with sore sides, I never recovered till I reached the
street, when O'Grady dragged me along, saying as he did so--
'We must reach home at once. Nothing but a strong alibi will save my
character.'