Mrs. Pounce answered with a stern composure of voice and manner entirely new in the experience of Cosway and Stone. "I have paid ready money, gentlemen, for the hire of your horses and carriages," she said; "here are the receipts from the livery stables to vouch for me; I never accept bills unless I am quite sure beforehand that they will be honored. I defy you to find an overcharge in the account now rendered; and I expect you to pay it before you leave my house." Stone looked at his watch. "In three-quarters of an hour," he said, "we must be on board." Mrs. Pounce entirely agreed with him. "And if you are not on board," she remarked "you will be tried by court-martial, and dismissed the service with your characters ruined for life." "My dear creature, we haven't time to send home, and we know nobody in the town," pleaded Cosway. "For God's sake take our watches and jewelry, and our luggage--and let us go." "I am not a pawnbroker," said the inflexible lady. "You must either pay your lawful debt to me in honest money, or--" She paused and looked at Cosway. Her fat face brightened--she smiled graciously for the first time. Cosway stared at her in unconcealed perplexity. He helplessly repeated her last words. "We must either pay the bill," he said, "or what?" "Or," answered Mrs. Pounce, "one of you must marry ME." Was she joking? Was she intoxicated? Was she out of her senses? Neither of the three; she was in perfect possession of herself; her explanation was a model of lucid and convincing arrangement of facts.