Arrived there, the porter thundered at the massive door of the Lodge, which was instantly opened—Shotbolt's note having been received just before. ” “You are really going on the stage, then?” he said slowly. He went to the door. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. " "Conduct me to your dwelling, Sir, without further delay," said Trenchard, sternly,—"to the boy. Get out your pad and pencil. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat.
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