‘The night is young,’ I continued; ‘not much past eleven, for a wager. Where can we find a good inn? And remark that I say _good_, for the port must be up to the occasion—not a headache in a pipe of it.’
‘Really, sir,’ he said, smiling a little, ‘you have a way of carrying things—’
‘Will nothing make you stick to the subject?’ I cried; ‘you have the most irrelevant mind! How do you expect to rise in your profession? The inn?’
‘Well, I will say you are a facetious gentleman!’ said he. ‘You must have your way, I see. We are not three miles from Bedford by this very road.’
I tucked his arm under mine, possessed myself of the valise, and walked him off unresisting. Presently we came to an open piece of country lying a thought downhill. The road was smooth and free of ice, the moonshine thin and bright over the meadows and the leafless trees. I was now honestly done with the purgatory of the covered cart; I was close to my great-uncle’s; I had no more fear of Mr. Dudgeon; which were all grounds enough for jollity. And I was aware, besides, of us two as of a pair of tiny and solitary dolls under the vast frosty cupola of the midnight; the rooms decked, the moon burnished, the least of the stars lighted, the floor swept and waxed, and nothing wanting but for the band to strike up and the dancing to begin. In the exhilaration of my heart I took the music on myself—
‘Merrily danced the Quaker’s wife, And merrily danced the Quaker.’
I broke into that animated and appropriate air, clapped my arm about Dudgeon’s waist, and away down the hill at a dancing step! He hung back a little at the start, but the impulse of the tune, the night, and my example, were not to be resisted. A man made of putty must have danced, and even Dudgeon showed himself to be a human being. Higher and higher were the capers that we cut; the moon repeated in shadow our antic footsteps and gestures; and it came over my mind of a sudden—really like balm—what appearance of man I was dancing with, what a long bilious countenance he had shown under his shaven pate, and what a world of trouble the rascal had given me in the immediate past.
Presently we began to see the lights of Bedford. My Puritanic companion stopped and disengaged himself.