Paten took out his cigar-case, selected a cigar with much care, lighted it, and, after smoking for some seconds, began: “It all happened this way: we met one night at that singing-place in the Haymarket. Towers, Wake, Collins, and myself were eating an oyster supper, when Hawke came in. He had been dining at the 'Rag,' and had won largely at whist from some young cavalry swells, who had just joined. He was flushed and excited, but not from drinking, for he said he had not tasted anything but claret-cup at dinner. 'You're a mangy-looking lot,' said he, 'with your stewed oysters and stout,' as he came up. 'Why, frozen-out gardeners are fine gentlemen in comparison. Are there no robberies going on at the Ottoman,--nothing doing down at Grimshaw's?' “'You 're very bumptious about belonging to the “Rag,” Hawke.' said Towers; 'but they 'll serve you the same trick they did _me_ one of these days.' “'No, sir, they 'll never turn _me_ out,' said Hawke, insolently. “'More fools they, then,' said the other; 'for you can do _ten_ things for _one_ that I can; and, what's more, you _have_ done them.' “'And will again, old boy, if that's any comfort to you,' cried Hawke, finishing off the other's malt. 'Waiter, fetch me some cold oysters, and score them to these gentlemen,' said he, gayly, taking his place amongst us. And so we chaffed away, about one thing or another, each one contributing some lucky or unlucky hit that had befallen him; but Hawke always bringing up how he had succeeded here, and what he had won there, and only vexed if any one reminded him that he had been ever 'let in' in his life. “'Look here,' cried he, at last; 'ye're an uncommon seedy lot, very much out at elbows, and so I 'll do you a generous turn. I 'll take ye all over to my cottage at Jersey for a week, house and grub you, and then turn you loose on the island, to do your wicked will with it.' “'We take your offer--we say, Done!' cried Collins. “'I should think you do! You've been sleeping under the colonnade of the Haymarket these last three nights,' said he to Collins, 'for want of a lodging. There's Towers chuckling over the thought of having false keys to all my locks; and Master Paul, yonder,' said he, grinning at me, 'is in love with my wife. Don't deny it, man; I broke open her writing-desk t' other day, and read all your letters to her; but I'm a generous dog; and, what's better,' added he, with an insolent laugh, 'one as bites, too--eh, Paul?--don't forget that.' “'Do you mean the invitation to be real and _bonâ fide?_' growled out Towers; 'for I 'm in no jesting humor.' “'I do,' said Hawke, flourishing out a handful of banknotes; 'there's enough here to feed five times as many blacklegs; and more costly guests a man can't have.' “'You'll go, won't you?' said Collins, to me, as we walked home together afterwards. “'Well,' said I, doubtingly, 'I don't exactly see my way.' “'By Jove!' cried he, 'you _are_ afraid of him.'