If the main tower of Rochester Castle had suddenly walked from its foundation, and moved itself next to the coffee-room window, Mr Winkle still could not have been more astonished than he was when he heard what the stranger had to say. His first impression was that his coat had been stolen. 'May I ask you to wait for just one moment?' he said.

'Certainly,' replied the unwelcome visitor.

Mr Winkle ran hastily upstairs, and with a trembling hand opened the bag. There was the coat in its usual place, but when he looked closely there were evident signs that it had been worn the night before.

'It must be true,' said Mr Winkle, letting the coat fall from his hands. 'I took too much wine after dinner, and have a very confused recollection of walking about the streets, and smoking a cigar afterwards.

The fact is, I was very drunk. I must have changed my coat - gone somewhere - and insulted somebody - I have no doubt of it, and the terrible result is that this stranger is here.' Saying which, Mr Winkle went back to the coffee-room, with the gloomy and and horrible intention of accepting the challenge of the warlike Doctor Slammer, no matter what might happen afterwards.