"I did, sir. I don't mind confessing to you--here on the point of departing from England--that I admire the noble art, sir: so much so that I have wasted a whole day in the neighbourhood of Fareham, hunting for a prize-fight which never came off." "But--but I don't mind confessing to your Excellency," gasped Captain Suckling, "that _I_ too have been at Fareham and have--er--met with the same disappointment." "Disappointment, sir! When you have kidnapped the scoundrels--when you have them on board at this moment!" Sir John pointing a shaking forefinger again at the pressed men. Captain Suckling stared in the direction where the finger pointed. "You don't mean to tell me--" he began weakly, addressing the first lieutenant. "Mr. Fraser brought them aboard, sir," said the first lieutenant. "And we'll have the law of you for it," promised the man in the pearl buttons from amidships, but in a weakening voice. Captain Suckling was what they call an officer and a gentleman. He drew himself up at once. "In my absence my officers appear to have made a small mistake. But I hope your Excellency may not be disappointed after all. I have never set eyes on either of these men before, but if that naked man be the Dustman I will put up a hundred pounds upon him, here and now; or on the other if that runs counter to your Excellency's fancy--" "Jem Clark's my man," said Sir John. "I'll match your stake, sir." "--And liberty for all if they show a decent fight, and a boat to set them ashore," went on Captain Suckling. "Is that a fair offer, my men?" The man in the pearl buttons raised his head to answer for the two pugilists, who by this time were totally incapable of answering for themselves. He showed pluck, too; for his face shone with the colour of pale marble. "A hundred pounds! Oh, go to blazes with your hundred pounds! When I tell you the Prince Regent himself had five hundred on it. . . . Oh! prop 'em up, somebody! and let the fools see what they've done to poor Jem, that I'd a-trained to a hair. And the money of half the fancy depending on his condition. . . ." "Prop 'em up, some of you!" echoed Captain Suckling. "Eh? God bless my soul--" He paused, staring from the yellow faces of the pugilists to the battered and contused features of his own seamen. "God bless my soul!" repeated Captain Suckling. "Mr. Fraser!" "Sir!" The second lieutenant stepped forward. "You mean to tell me that--that these two men--inflicted--er--_all this?_" "They did, sir. If I might explain the unfortunate mistake--" "You describe it accurately, sir. I could say to you, as Sir Isaac Newton said to his dog Diamond, 'Oh, Mr. Fraser, Mr. Fraser, you little know what you have done!'"