'So be it,' rejoined his proffered host; and, with another hearty swing of
the arm, the newly made friends parted.

Charley Romford, or Facey, as he was commonly called, from his being the
admitted most impudent man in the country, was a great, round-faced,
coarse-featured, prize-fighting sort of fellow, who lived chiefly by his
wits, which he exercised in all the legitimate lines of industry--poaching,
betting, boxing, horse-dealing, cards, quoits--anything that came
uppermost. That he was a man of enterprise, we need hardly add, when he had
formed a scheme for doing our Sponge--a man that we do not think any of our
readers would trouble themselves to try a 'plant' upon.

This impudent Facey, as if in contradiction of terms, was originally
intended for a civil engineer; but having early in life voted himself heir
to his uncle, Mr. Gilroy, of Queercove Hill, a great cattle-jobber, with a
'small independence of his own'--three hundred a year, perhaps, which a
kind world called six--Facey thought he would just hang about until his
uncle was done with his shoes, and then be lord of Queercove Hill.

Now, 'me Oncle Gilroy,' of whom Facey was constantly talking, had a
left-handed wife and promising family in the sylvan retirement of St.
John's Wood, whither he used to retire after his business in 'Smi'fiel''
was over; so that Facey, for once, was out in his calculations. Gilroy,
however, being as knowing as 'his nevvey,' as he called him, just
encouraged Facey in his shooting, fishing, and idle propensities generally,
doubtless finding it more convenient to have his fish and game for nothing
than to pay for them.

Facey, having the apparently inexhaustible sum of a thousand pounds, began
life as a fox-hunter--in a very small way, to be sure--more for the purpose
of selling horses than anything else; but, having succeeded in 'doing' all
the do-able gentlemen, both with the 'Tip and Go' and Cranerfield hounds,
his occupation was gone, it requiring an extended field--such as our friend
Sponge roamed--to carry on cheating in horses for any length of time. Facey
was soon blown, his name in connexion with a horse being enough to prevent
any one looking at him. Indeed, we question that there is any less
desirable mode of making, or trying to make money, than by cheating or even
dealing in horses. Many people fancy themselves cheated, whatever they get;
while the man who is really cheated never forgets it, and proclaims it to
th