er?"

"No, I will not," said I.

"Are you fool enough to wish to fight fair?"

"No," said I, "I am wise enough to wish not to fight at all."

"And how's my brewer to be paid?" said the landlord.

"I really don't know," said I.

"I'll change my religion," said the landlord.

CHAPTER XCIII.

One evening Belle and myself received another visit from the man in
black. After a little conversation of not much importance, I asked him
whether he would not take some refreshment, assuring him that I was now
in possession of some very excellent Hollands which, with a glass, a jug
of water, and a lump of sugar, were heartily at his service; he accepted
my offer, and Belle going with a jug to the spring, from which she was in
the habit of procuring water for tea, speedily returned with it full of
the clear, delicious water of which I have already spoken. Having placed
the jug by the side of the man in black, she brought him a glass and
spoon, and a tea-cup, the latter containing various lumps of snowy-white
sugar: in the meantime I had produced a bottle of the stronger liquid.
The man in black helped himself to some water, and likewise to some
Hollands, the proportion of water being about two-thirds; then adding a
lump of sugar, he stirred the whole up, tasted it, and said that it was
good.

"This is one of the good things of life," he added, after a short pause.

"What are the others?" I demanded.

"There is Malvoisia sack," said the man in black, "and partridge, and
beccafico."

"And what do you say to high mass?" said I.

"High mass!" said the man in black; "however," he continued, after a
pause, "I will be frank with you; I came to be so; I may have heard high
mass on a time, and said it too, but as for any predilection for it, I
assure you I have no more than for a long High Church sermon."

"You speak a la Margutte?" said I.

"Margutte!" said the man in black, musingly, "Margutte?"

"You have read Pulci, I suppose?" said I.

"Yes, yes," said the man in black, laughing; "I remember."

"He might be rendered into English," said I, "something in this style:--

"To which Margutte answered with a sneer,
I like the blue no better than the black,
My faith consists alone in savoury cheer,
In roasted capons, and in potent sack;
But above all, in famous gin and clear,
Which often lays the Briton on his back,
With lump of sugar, and with lympth from well,
I drink it, and defy the fi