"Who told you to interfere?" said the radical, turning ferociously towards the simple-looking man; "say another word, and I'll--And you!" said he, addressing himself to the man in black, "a pretty fellow you to turn against me, after I had taken your part. I tell you what, you may fight for yourself. I'll see you and your Pope in the pit of Eldon before I fight for either of you, so make the most of it." "Then you won't fight?" said I. "Not for the Pope," said the radical; "I'll see the Pope--" "Dear me!" said I, "not fight for the Pope, whose religion you would turn to, if you were inclined for any? I see how it is; you are not fond of fighting. But I'll give you another chance. You were abusing the Church of England just now. I'll fight for it--will you fight against it?" "Come, Hunter," said the other, "get up, and fight against the Church of England." "I have no particular quarrel against the Church of England," said the man in the snuff-coloured coat; "my quarrel is with the aristocracy. If I said anything against the Church, it is merely for a bit of corollary, as Master William Cobbett would say; the quarrel with the Church belongs to this fellow in black, so let him carry it on. However," he continued suddenly, "I won't slink from the matter either; it shall never be said by the fine fellows on the quay of New York, that I wouldn't fight against the Church of England. So down with the beggarly aristocracy, the Church, and the Pope, to the bottom of the pit of Eldon, and may the Pope fall first, and the others upon him."