Bidding the other passengers good night, in a rather snappish manner, the stranger alighted. He was a shortish gentleman, with very stiff black hair cut in the porcupine or blacking-brush style, and standing stiff and straight all over his head; his aspect was pompous and threatening; his manner was peremptory; his eyes were sharp and restless; and his whole bearing bespoke a feeling of great confidence in himself, and a consciousness of immeasurable superiority over all other people.
This gentleman was shown into the room originally assigned to the patriotic Mr. Pott; and the waiter remarked, in dumb astonishment at the singular coincidence, that he had no sooner lighted the candles than the gentleman, diving into his hat, drew forth a newspaper, and began to read it with the very same expression of indignant scorn, which, upon the majestic features of Pott, had paralysed his energies an hour before. The man observed too, that whereas Mr. Pott's scorn had been roused by a newspaper headed The Eatanswill Independent, this gentleman's withering contempt was awakened by a newspaper entitled The Eatanswill Gazette.
"Send the landlord," said the stranger.
"Yes, sir," rejoined the waiter.
The landlord was sent, and came.
"Are you the landlord?" inquired the gentleman.
"I am, sir," replied the landlord.
"Do you know me?" demanded the gentleman.
"I have not that pleasure, sir," rejoined the landlord.
"My name is Slurk," said the gentleman.
The landlord slightly inclined his head.
"Slurk, sir," repeated the gentleman, haughtily. "Do you know me now, man?"
The landlord scratched his head, looked at the ceiling, and at the stranger, and smiled feebly.
"Do you know me, man?" inquired the stranger, angrily.
The landlord made a strong effort, and at length replied: "Well, sir, I do not know you."
"Great Heaven!" said the stranger, dashing his clenched fist upon the table. "And this is popularity!"
The landlord took a step or two towards the door; the stranger fixing his eyes upon him, resumed.
"This," said the stranger, "this is gratitude for years of labour and study in behalf of the masses. I alight wet and weary; no enthusiastic crowds press forward to greet their champion; the church-bells are silent; the very name elicits no responsive feeling in their torpid bosoms. It is enough," said the agitated Mr. Slurk, pacing to and fro, "to curdle the ink in one's pen, and induce one to abandon their cause for ever."
"Did you say brandy and water, sir?" said the landlord, venturing a hint.
"Rum," said Mr. Slurk, turning fiercely upon him. "Have you got a fire anywhere?"
"We can light one directly, sir," said the landlord.
"Which will throw out no heat until it is bed-time," interrupted Mr. Slurk. "Is there anybody in the kitchen?"