f the footmen.

"Kill fellow firsht!" cried his Grace, with his hand on his sword, and
instantly fell over, and went sound asleep.

"His Grace has sent his coach home, your honour," said one of the men,
respectfully. "The duke is very quarrelsome, sir."

"Put him in a chair, then," said Charles.

So they fearfully lifted his Grace, who was too far gone to resist, and
carried him to a chair. And Mr. Fox bribed the chairmen with two guineas
apiece, which he borrowed from me, to set his Grace down amongst the
marketwomen at Covent Garden.

The next morning Banks found in my pockets something over seven hundred
pounds more than I had had the day before.

I rose late, my head swimming with mains and nicks, and combinations of
all the numbers under the dozen; debated whether or no I would go to
Arlington Street, and decided that I had not the courage. Comyn settled
it by coming in his cabriolet, proposed that we should get the air in the
park, dine at the Cocoa Tree, and go afterwards to Lady Tankerville's
drum-major, where Dolly would undoubtedly be.

"Now you are here, Richard," said his Lordship, with his accustomed
bluntness, "and your sea-captain has relieved your Quixotic conscience,
what the deuce do you intend to do?

"Win a thousand pounds every night at Brooks's, or improve your time and
do your duty, and get Miss Manners out of his Grace's clutches? I'll
warrant something will come of that matter this morning."

"I hope so," I said shortly.

Comyn looked at me sharply.

"Would you fight him?" he asked.

"If he gave me the chance."

His Lordship whistled. "Egad, then," said he, "I shall want to be there
to see. In spite of his pudding-bag shape he handles the sword as well
as any man in England. I have crossed with him at Angelo's. And he has
a devilish tricky record, Richard."

I said nothing to that.

"Hope you do--kill him," Comyn continued. "He deserves it richly. But
that will be a cursed unpleasant way of settling the business,
--unpleasant for you, unpleasant for her, and cursed unpleasant for him,
too, I suppose. Can't you think of any other way of getting her? Ask
Charles to give you a plan of campaign. You haven't any sense, and
neither have I."

"Hang you, Jack, I have no hopes of getting her," I replied, for I was
out of humour with myself that day. "In spite of what you say, I know
she doesn't care a brass farthing to marry me. So let's drop that."

Comyn made a comic gesture of de