The butler was right. He did leave the house. He saw Lady Glencora taken to her carriage from some back hiding-place in the hall, and then slipped out, unmindful of his shining boots, and dress coat and jewelled studs. He took a Gibus hat,--his own, or that of some other unfortunate,--and slowly made his way down to the place in Bruton Street. There was the carriage and pair of horses, all in readiness; and the driver, when he had placed himself by the door of the vehicle, was not long in emerging from the neighbouring public-house. "All ready, your honour," said the man. "I shan't want you to-night," said Burgo, hoarsely;--"go away." "And about the things, your honour?" "Take them to the devil. No; stop. 
The butler was right. He did leave the house. He saw Lady Glencora taken to her carriage, and then slipped out, and slowly made his way down to Bruton Street. There was the carriage ready; and the driver emerged from the nearby public-house.
"I shan't want you tonight," said Burgo, hoarsely.
"And what about the things, your honour?"
"Take them to the devil. No; stop. 