"Well, he has fought three duels to my knowledge, won a point-to-point steeplechase not so long ago and a fortune with it--came down at the first jump and rode with a broken arm though nobody knew until he fainted. Youthful despite years, quick of eye, hand and tongue, correct in himself and all that pertains to him, one who must be sought--even by Royalty, it seems--who might have married among the fairest and lives solitary except for his man John. Sir Jervas Vereker is--Sir Jervas." "You seem to know my uncle rather well." "I did--for my name besides Anthony is Vere-Manville!" Here he paused as expecting some comment but finding me silent, continued: "My father was killed with Sir John Moore, at Corunna, and I was brought up by a curmudgeonly uncle, the most preposterous unavuncular uncle that ever bullied a defenceless nephew to the dogs. Well, I grew up and was a moderately happy man despite my uncle, until I took to my bosom a friend who deceived me and a mistress who broke my heart." "Oh," said I, not a little touched by this gloomy and romantic tale, "then this explains your--your--" "My present misery, Peregrine? Not altogether. Had I been a philosopher and bent to the storm, I might perchance have gone my solitary way a broken and embittered man, but philosophy and bending to storms is not in me, unhappily, for chancing to encounter my faithless friend, I twisted his nose to such a tune that he demanded satisfaction which resulted in my wounding him; after which I consigned my perjured mistress to perdition; after which again, purely because she happened to be a wealthy heiress, my curmudgeonly uncle cast me adrift, cut me off and consigned me to the devil." "Here is a very moving story!" said I. "It is, Peregrine, it is, egad--and consequently I have been moving ever since and going to the devil as fast as I can, though sadly hampered by lack of funds." "What do you mean by 'going to the devil?'" "Why, there are many ways, Peregrine, as of course you know, but mine would be ale, beer, wine, brandy--had I the necessary money." "Are you determined on it?" "Absolutely!" said he, taking off his battered hat to scowl at it and clap it on again. "Absolutely, Peregrine--I am firmly determined to drink myself to the final exodus." "How much money should you require, Anthony?" At this he turned to stare with an expression of whimsical dubiety and thereafter fell to rubbing his unshaven chin as rather at a loss. "Let us say fifty guineas--no, we'll make it a hundred while we're about it--a hundred guineas would do the thing admirably--though to be sure much might be done with less." "I have only eighteen pounds," said I, thrusting hand into pocket; "which will leave nine for you--" "Hey!" he exclaimed, stopping in his sudden fashion. "What's this--what the devil--I say, curse and confound everything, man, what d'ye mean?" "Being both solitary wanderers, we will share equally so far as we may--"