The jockey then got up, and going to a large bow-window at the end of the room, which looked into a courtyard, peeped out; then saying, "The coast is clear," he shut down the principal sash, which was open for the sake of the air, and taking up a bottle of the champagne, he placed another in the hands of the Hungarian, to whom he said something in private.

The latter, who seemed to understand him, answered by a nod.

The two then going to the end of the table fronting the window, and about eight paces from it, stood before it holding the bottles by their necks; suddenly the jockey lifted up his arm.

"Surely," said I, "you are not mad enough to fling that bottle through the window ?" "Here's to the Romany Rye; here's to the sweet master," said the jockey, dashing the bottle through a pane in so neat a manner that scarcely a particle of glass fell into the room.
"Eljen edes csigany ur--eljen gul eray!" said the Hungarian, swinging round his bottle and discharging it at the window; but, either not possessing the jockey's accuracy of aim, or reckless of consequences, he flung his bottle so that it struck against part of the wooden setting of the panes, breaking along with the wood and itself three or four panes to pieces.

The crash was horrid, and wine and particles of glass flew back into the room, to the no small danger of its inmates.