'Indeed!' observed Mr. Sponge, drawing in his breath and raising his eyebrows right up into the roof of his head. 'Indeed!' repeated he. 'No; nothing of the sort, I assure you,' asserted Mr. Pacey. 'Must have satisfaction!' exclaimed Jack, again diving under the bedclothes. 'Well, but let us hear how matters stand,' said Mr. Sponge coolly, as Jack's grizzly head disappeared. 'You'll be my second,' growled Jack, from under the bedclothes. 'Oh! second be hanged,' retorted Sponge. 'You've nothing to fight about; Mr. Pacey says he didn't mean anything, that you misunderstood him, and what more can a man want?' 'Just so,' replied Mr. Pacey, 'just so. I assure you I never intended the slightest imputation on Mr. Spraggon.' 'I'm sure not,' replied Mr. Sponge. 'H-u-m-p-h,' grunted Jack from under the bedclothes, like a pig in the straw. Not showing any disposition to appear on the surface again, Mr. Sponge, after standing a second or two, gave a jerk of his head to Mr. Pacey, and forthwith conducted him into his own room, shutting the door between Mr. Spraggon and him. Mr. Sponge then inquired into the matter, kindly sympathizing with Mr. Pacey, who he was certain never meant anything disrespectful to Mr. Spraggon, who, Mr. Sponge thought, seemed rather quick at taking offence; though, doubtless, as Mr. Sponge observed, 'a man was perfectly right in being tenacious of his integrity,' a position that he illustrated by a familiar passage from Shakespeare, about stealing a purse and stealing trash, &c. Emboldened by his kindness, Mr. Pacey then got Mr. Sponge on to talk about the horse of which he had become the unwilling possessor--the renowned chestnut, Multum in Parvo. Mr. Sponge spoke like a very prudent, conscientious man; said that really it was difficult to give an opinion about a horse; that what suited one man might not suit another--that _he_ considered Multum in Parvo a very good horse; indeed, that he wouldn't have parted with him if he hadn't more than he wanted, and the cream of the season had passed without his meeting with any of those casualties that rendered the retention of an extra horse or two desirable. Altogether, he gave Mr. Pacey to understand that he held him to his bargain. Having thanked Sponge for his great kindness, and got an order on the groom (Mr. Leather) to have the horse out, Mr. Pacey took his departure to the stable, and Sponge having summoned his neighbour Mr. Spraggon from his bed, the two proceeded to a passage window that commanded a view of the stable-yard. Mr. Pacey presently went swaggering across it, cracking his jockey whip against his leg, followed by Mr. Leather, with a saddle on his shoulder and a bridle in his hand. 'He'd better keep his whip quiet,' observed Mr. Sponge, with a shake of his head, as he watched Pacey's movements. 'The beggar thinks he can ride anything,' observed Jack. 'He'll find his mistake out just now,' replied Sponge.