Chance led him to encounter a party of boon companions whose company he had vowed to relinquish. One of these was in funds, having abandoned political pamphleteering for the writing of biographies of notorious personages, both men and women--the latter preferably--in which truth and fiction were audaciously blended, and the whole dashed with scandalous anecdotes which found for such stuff a ready sale. Jarvis and his friends having had their fill of liquor at one tavern, were proceeding to another when they met Lancelot Vane, and they bore him away without much protest. It was by no means the first time that Vane had drowned his sorrows in drink. Meanwhile Rofflash was on the prowl. He was not unacquainted with some of the Grub Street scribblers. One man he had employed three or four years before, when Jacobitism was rampant, in running to earth the writers of seditious pamphlets and broad sheets. The man was Tom Jarvis. Rofflash knew Tom's favourite haunts, and after looking in at various taverns, lighted upon him at the "Angel and Sun." He also lighted upon Vane. Vane he could see was well on the way towards forgetfulness, but Captain Jeremy wasn't one to run any risks, so he held aloof from the party, and waited while the landlord went about his errand. Presently Jarvis looked in the direction of the fireplace, and Rofflash beckoned him and laid his fingers on his lip in token of silence. Jarvis quietly slipped away and joined Rofflash. "Devil take it, my gallant captain!" growled Jarvis, "but you look in fine feather. Hang me if you haven't tumbled on your feet, and that's more than Tom Jarvis can say. Since the Jacks have swallowed King George and his Hanoverian progeny things have been precious dull for the likes o' me." "Aye, though it mayn't be for long. Meanwhile, I can put you in the way of a guinea. Are you friendly with that young fool, Lancelot Vane?" "Friendly? Why, to be sure. He's always good for a bottle if he chance to have the wherewithal about him. And he's the best company in the world when that comes about. A couple o' glasses knocks him over, and you can finish the rest of the bottle at your ease." "Gad! He's one of your feather-brained, lily-livered fellows, is he? So much the better for my purpose. Look you here, Tom; bring Vane to-morrow evening to Spring Gardens, and there's a guinea ready for you." Jarvis looked down his long nose and frowned. "Not so easy as you think, captain. I know Vane. To-morrow he'll be chock full of repentance. He'll be calling himself all the fools he can lay his tongue to. How am I to get him to Spring Gardens in that mood?" "'Tis as easy as lying, Tom. When a man's down as Peter Grievous, he's ready to get up if he have but a couple of hairs of the dog that bit him." "I grant you that, bully captain. But Vane's pocket's as empty as mine. Where's the coin to come from?"