The voice of Mr. Slinkton was heard through the clatter from the
opposite side of the staircase, and he came in. He had not
expected the pleasure of meeting me. I have seen several artful
men brought to a stand, but I never saw a man so aghast as he was
when his eyes rested on mine.
'Julius Caesar,' cried Beckwith, staggering between us, 'Mist'
Sampson! Mist' Sampson, Julius Caesar! Julius, Mist' Sampson, is
the friend of my soul. Julius keeps me plied with liquor, morning,
noon, and night. Julius is a real benefactor. Julius threw the tea
and coffee out of window when I used to have any. Julius empties
all the water-jugs of their contents, and fills 'em with spirits.
Julius winds me up and keeps me going. - Boil the brandy, Julius!'
There was a rusty and furred saucepan in the ashes, - the ashes
looked like the accumulation of weeks, - and Beckwith, rolling and
staggering between us as if he were going to plunge headlong into
the fire, got the saucepan out, and tried to force it into
Slinkton's hand.
'Boil the brandy, Julius Caesar! Come! Do your usual office.
Boil the brandy!'
He became so fierce in his gesticulations with the saucepan, that I
expected to see him lay open Slinkton's head with it.
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