"You'll be sure to be back in time, old fellow," said the latter, as he wished Markworth good-bye; and the train glided off from the little station to which they had walked in company across the fields. "There'll be heaps of fun, for Harrowby and a lot of the fellows will be down, and I want you to draw out the campaigner, or she'll be making a dead set at me, and--" "You'll have other fish to fry, and will want to attend to someone else, eh? I quite understand it all, my boy; I'm not so blind as some people think, Master Tom. However, I'll spare your blushes and your explanations: don't be alarmed, my boy, I'll be back in plenty of time for the pic-nic, and will take care to occupy my lady's attention so as to leave you to your own devices. Good-bye, old chap." "Good-bye, old fellow," said Tom; and Markworth was soon whizzing on his way to London. Arrived in town, he first directed his steps to the private billiard-room where he and his friend first made the acquaintance of the reader. His object was to enlist the services of the little old-fashioned marker, who we had previously seen watching the game. This man, Joe Begg by name, although only known to the sporting world who frequented the room by his Christian name alone, was an accomplice and ally of Markworth. When our friend would manage to get hold of a nice pigeon for plucking, Joe Begg used to be of the greatest service. He had a peculiarly dexterous way of running up the score, and also a pleasant and most unaccountable manner of sneezing just when Markworth's opponent would be making some important stroke. It was most unfortunate of course, and the victim would meet with so much sympathy, and the marker would apologise so earnestly with tears in his eyes for the unfortunate cold in the head, "which takes me most unexpected, sir," as he would explain, that poor pigeon could not but allow that it was an accident, and accept the _amende honorable_ by continuing his play. When neophyte went away, after his vanity had been flattered by his being allowed _nearly_ to win and his losing "rather hot, you know, by Jove?" he did not know that Markworth and the marker generally came to an understanding, which always resulted in the former offering and the latter accepting sundry substantial tokens of esteem and regard. It was not to make use of his aid in the matter of billiards and by-play that Markworth now sought the company of Joe Begg. It was for something much more important and vastly different, although of a similar nature. He wanted a witness for the contemplated marriage, and he could not think of anyone better qualified to assist him than Joe. He was just the man, for he had been always faithful to Markworth's interests, and could be as "close as wax," although he would naturally require a "consideration." "Well, Joe, how's business," he said, as he walked into the billiard-room, when, as was usual at such an early hour of the day, the marker was all alone.