Barchester Junction, and sat opposite to me all the way up
to London. I did not speak a word to him, or he to me; but
when he got out at the Paddington Station, I thought I
ought not to let him go away, so I--I can't say that I
thrashed him as I wished to do, but I made an attempt, and
I did give him a black eye. A whole quantity of policemen
got round us, and I hadn't a fair chance. I know you will
think that I was wrong, and perhaps I was; but what could I
do when he sat opposite to me there for two hours, looking
as though he thought himself the finest fellow in all
London?

They've put a horrible paragraph into one of the newspapers
saying that I got so "flogged" that I haven't been able to
stir since. It is an atrocious falsehood, as is all the
rest of the newspaper account. I was not touched. He was
not nearly so bad a customer as the bull, and seemed to
take it all very quietly. I must acknowledge, though, that
he didn't get such a beating as he deserved.

Your friend Sir R. B. sent for me this morning, and told me
I was a felon. I didn't seem to care much for that, for he
might as well have called me a murderer or a burglar, but I
shall care very much indeed if I have made you angry with
me. But what I most fear is the anger of some one else,--at
Allington.

Believe me to be, my Lord,

Yours very much obliged and most sincerely,

JOHN EAMES.

"I knew he'd do it if ever he got the opportunity," said the earl
when he had read his letter; and he walked about his room striking
his hands together, and then thrusting his thumbs into his
waistcoat-pockets. "I knew he was made of the right stuff," and the
earl rejoiced greatly in the prowess of his favourite. "I'd have done
it myself if I'd seen him. I do believe I would." Then he went back
to the breakfast-room and told Lady Julia. "What do you think?" said
he; "Johnny Eames has come across Crosbie, and given him a desperate
beating."

"No!" said Lady Julia, putting down her newspaper and spectacles, and
expressing by the light of her eyes anything but Christian horror at
the wickedness of the deed.

"But he has, though. I knew he would if he saw him."

"Beaten him! Actually beaten him!"

"Sent him home to Lady Alexandrina with two black eyes."

"Two black eyes! What a young pickle! But did he get hurt himself?"

"Not a scratch he says."

"And what'll they do to him