“I was about to add,” continued Gay, “that my opera shall have no music except the good old ballad tunes. And we'll see whether it won't put the Italian opera out of fashion, with Cutzoni, Senesino, and the 'divine' Farinelli at its head.” “You'll do a national service, then,” said Hogarth. “The sums lavished upon those people are perfectly disgraceful, and I should be enchanted to see them hooted from the stage. But I've an idea as well as you, grounded in some measure upon Sheppard's story. I'll take two apprentices, and depict their career. One, by perseverance and industry shall obtain fortune, credit, and the highest honours; while the other by an opposite course, and dissolute habits, shall eventually arrive at Tyburn.” “Your's will be nearer the truth, and have a deeper moral, Mr. Hogarth,” remarked Jack, dejectedly. “But if my career were truly exhibited, it must be as one long struggle against destiny in the shape of--” “Jonathan Wild,” interposed Gay. “I knew it. By the by, Mr. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?” “Me!--no, Sir,” stammered Hogarth, colouring. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. Luckily, Sir James was so much engrossed by his own task, that both the remark and gesture escaped him. “I suppose I was mistaken,” returned Gay. “You've been quizzing my friend Kent, I perceive, in your Burlington Gate.” “A capital caricature that,” remarked Thornhill, laughing. “What does Mr. Kent say to it?” “He thinks so highly of it, that he says if he had a daughter he would give her to the artist,” answered Gay, a little maliciously. “Ah!” exclaimed Sir James. “'Sdeath!” cried Hogarth, aside to the poet. “You've ruined my hopes.” “Advanced them rather,” replied Gay, in the same tone. “Miss Thornhill's a charming girl. _I_ think a wife a needless incumbrance, and mean to die a bachelor. But, if I were in your place, I know what I'd do--” “What--what would you do?” asked Hogarth, eagerly. “Run away with her,” replied Gay. “Pish!” exclaimed Hogarth. But he afterwards acted upon the suggestion. “Good-b'ye, Jack,” said Figg, putting on his hat. “Rather in the way. Send you the shirt. Here, turnkey. Couple of guineas to drink Captain Sheppard's speedy escape. Thank him, not me, man. Give this fellow the slip, if you can, Jack. If not, keep up your spirits. Die game.” “Never fear,” replied Jack. “If I get free, I'll have a bout with you at all weapons. If not, I'll take a cheerful glass with you at the City of Oxford, on my way to Tyburn.” “Give you the best I have in either case,” replied Figg. “Good-b'ye!” And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. Sir James Thornhill, then, rose. “I won't trouble you further, Jack,” he remarked. “I've done all I can to the portrait here. I must finish it at home.”