“Who can make head or tail of all this?” cried he, in angry impatience. “The fellow writes as if I was a scrivener's clerk, and knew all their confounded jargon. Mere schemes to extort money these!” “Not always. There's now and then a real charge in the gun, and it's too late to know it when you 're hit,” cried Grog, quietly. “Why do not Fordyce's people send out a proper person to communicate with myself directly,” said Beecher, haughtily. “They did, and I saw him,” said Grog, boldly. Beecher grew crimson, and his lip trembled with a convulsive movement. It was very hard indeed to restrain himself, but, with an effort, he succeeded, and simply said, “And then--” “And then,” resumed Davis, “I packed him off again.” “What authority had you to thrust yourself forward in this manner?” cried Beecher, passionately. “What authority?--the interest of my daughter, the Viscountess Lackington,” said Grog, with a mingled insolence and mockery. “You may safely swear it was out of no special regard for _you_. What authority?” And with this he burst out into a laugh of sarcastic defiance. “It need not offend you,” said Beecher, “if I say that a question like this must be intrusted to very different hands from yours.” “You think so, eh?” “I'm sure of it.” “Well, I am not; so far from it, that I'm ready to declare if I can't pull you through, there's not that man living who can. Lawyers can meet lawyers. If one wins a trick here, the other scores one there. This fellow has a deed,--that one has a codicil. It is always the same game; and they 're in no hurry to finish, for they are playing on velvet. What 's really wanting is some one that does n't care a rush for a little risk,--ready to bribe this man,--square the other,--burn a parish register, if need be, and come at--at any document that may be required,--at the peril of passing his days at Norfolk Island.” “You fancy that the whole world is like the ring at Ascot,” said Beecher, sneeringly. “And ain't it? What's the difference, I'd like to know? Is it noble lords like yourself would prove the contrary?” “I will see Fordyce myself,” said Beecher, coldly. “You needn't be at the trouble,” said Davis, calmly. “There's two ways of doing the thing: one is a compromise with the claimant, who turns out to be that young Conway, the 'Smasher.'” “Young Conway, the one-armed fellow?” “Just so. The other is, to get hold of Dunn's papers. Now, I have despatched a trusty hand to the Crimea to see about the first of these plans. As for the other, I 'll do it myself.” “How so?”