So they fearfully lifted his Grace, who was too far gone to resist, and carried him to a chair. And Mr. Fox bribed the chairmen with two guineas apiece, which he borrowed from me, to set his Grace down amongst the marketwomen at Covent Garden. The next morning Banks found in my pockets something over seven hundred pounds more than I had had the day before. I rose late, my head swimming with mains and nicks, and combinations of all the numbers under the dozen; debated whether or no I would go to Arlington Street, and decided that I had not the courage. Comyn settled it by coming in his cabriolet, proposed that we should get the air in the park, dine at the Cocoa Tree, and go afterwards to Lady Tankerville's drum-major, where Dolly would undoubtedly be. “Now you are here, Richard,” said his Lordship, with his accustomed bluntness, “and your sea-captain has relieved your Quixotic conscience, what the deuce do you intend to do? “Win a thousand pounds every night at Brooks's, or improve your time and do your duty, and get Miss Manners out of his Grace's clutches? I'll warrant something will come of that matter this morning.” “I hope so,” I said shortly. Comyn looked at me sharply. “Would you fight him?” he asked. “If he gave me the chance.” His Lordship whistled. “Egad, then,” said he, “I shall want to be there to see. In spite of his pudding-bag shape he handles the sword as well as any man in England. I have crossed with him at Angelo's. And he has a devilish tricky record, Richard.” I said nothing to that. “Hope you do--kill him,” Comyn continued. “He deserves it richly. But that will be a cursed unpleasant way of settling the business,--unpleasant for you, unpleasant for her, and cursed unpleasant for him, too, I suppose. Can't you think of any other way of getting her? Ask Charles to give you a plan of campaign. You haven't any sense, and neither have I.” “Hang you, Jack, I have no hopes of getting her,” I replied, for I was out of humour with myself that day. “In spite of what you say, I know she doesn't care a brass farthing to marry me. So let's drop that.” Comyn made a comic gesture of deprecation. I went on: “But I am going to stay here and find out the truth, though it may be a foolish undertaking. And if he is intimidating Mr. Manners--” “You may count on me, and on Charles,” said my Lord, generously; “and there are some others I know of. Gad! You made a dozen of friends and admirers by what you said last night, Richard. And his Grace has a few enemies. You will not lack support.”