“Why it’s run out!” he cried. A hoarse giggle from a sun-burnt country lad pointed out the culprit. “All run out a’ the top, I s’pose,” he added, resignedly. “Now, Bricket, let’s have another half-pint o’ twopenny, and draw it thickish, ’cos I aint had my supper.” Nat always liked his beer by instalments of half-pints, because he thought that he got more that way. Sometimes he drank as many as eight half-pints, on which occasions he would chuckle gravely in his sleeve, and persuade himself that he had cheated the landlord of a noggin. [Sidenote: No. 11.] [Illustration: “GOOD DAY, FRIEND,” SAID PEACE, TO THE HOST OF THE “CARVED LION.”] Peace had by this time become familiar and on friendly terms with many of those who were assembled in the skittle-ground. The young fellow who had been playing when we first made the acquaintance of this establishment, asked Peace to have a game. “Don’t ’ee play wi’ him, master,” said Nelly; “he be’s too much for any on ’em here, and ye won’t ha’ much chance wi’ him unless you are a good hand at the game.” “I’m not much of a player,” returned Peace, “but what matters that? We are only going to play for amusement or for a mug of beer. It don’t much matter who wins or loses.” “Please yourself, then――it aint any business of mine.” “Let ’em alone, Nell――there arnt no skittle sharpers here,” said a man at one of the tables. “Let ’em be, lass.” Nell shrugged her shoulders, and sat herself down on one of the forms. The players went to work in good earnest. Peace succeeded in knocking all the pins down at one go. This exploit was greeted with loud bravos. His antagonist, however, was equally successful, and the game resulted in a draw. Another game was played; this Peace lost. “I’ve done better than I expected,” said he, “and I think I had better leave off now. I am evidently no match for you.” “Come,” said Nell, “if ye’re done skittlin’ let us be going in doors, and ye can finish yer ale there.” Many of them now left, those that remained repaired to the parlour. CHAPTER XX. THE OCCUPANTS OF THE PARLOUR――A CONVIVIAL PARTY. Peace bent his steps in the direction of the bar of the establishment. As he was proceeding along, a voice shouted out―― “Yer’re beant a goin’ to leave us, sir, be’est thou!” “No, no, friend,” returned our hero. “I shall join you in a minute or so.” “Aye, that be right,” exclaimed the same voice. Peace went in front of the bar, and said to the landlord―― “I don’t want to go any further to-night. Can I have a bed here?” “Ah! surely,” answered the host; “for as many nights as thee likes. The more the merrier.” “Good. Then that’s settled.” He returned to the parlour. Over the mantel-piece of this was a smoke-bleached board, on which was inscribed, in dingy yellow letters――