aughter on leaving her stamped it a cruelty; of the kind that plain
mortals, who can be monsters, commit. Madge conceived a pretext for
going into the presence of her mistress, whose attitude was the same as
when she first sat in the chair. The lady smiled and said: 'He is not
hurt much?' She thought for them about her.

The girl's, heart of sympathy thumped, and her hero became a very minute
object. He had spoken previously of the making or not making a beast of
himself; without inflicting a picture of the beast. His words took shape
now, and in consequence a little self-pity began to move. It stirred to
swell the great wave of pity for the lady, that was in her bosom. 'Oh,
he!' she said, and extinguished the thought of him; and at once her
under-lip was shivering, her eyes filled and poured.

Carinthia rose anxiously. The girl dropped at her feet. 'You have been
so good to me to-day, my lady! so good to me to-day! I can't help it--I
don't often just for this moment; I've been excited. Oh, he's well, he
will do; he's nothing. You say "poor child!" But I'm not; it's only.
excitement. I do long to serve you the best I can.'

She stood up in obedience and had the arms of her young mistress
pressing her. Tears also were streaming from Carinthia's eyes. Heartily
she thanked the girl for the excuse to cry.

They were two women. On the road to Canleys, the coach conveying
men spouted with the lusty anecdote, relieved of the interdict of a
tyrannical sex.

CHAPTER XVIII. DOWN WHITECHAPEL WAY

Contention begets contention in a land of the pirate races. Gigs were
at high rival speed along the road from the battle-field to London.
They were the electrical wires of the time for an expectant population
bursting to have report of so thundering an event as the encounter of
two champion light weights, nursed and backed by a pair of gallant young
noblemen, pick of the whole row of coronets above. London panted gaping
and the gigs flew with the meat to fill it.

Chumley Potts offered Ambrose Mallard fair odds that the neat little
trap of the chief sporting journal, which had a reputation to maintain,
would be over one or other of the bridges crossing the Thames first.
Mallard had been struck by the neat little trap of an impudent new
and lower-priced journal, which had a reputation to gain. He took
the proffered odds, on the cry as of a cracker splitting. Enormous
difficulties in regard to the testimony and the verification