"With submission, sir. Whipple's his Grace o' Chartersea's man--and, you'll forgive me, sir--Whipple owns his Grace is prodigious ugly, an' killed young Mr. Atwater unfair, some think. Whipple says he would give notice had he not promised the old duke--" "Drat Whipple!" I cried. "Yes, sir. To be sure, sir. His Grace was in a bloody rage when he found hisself in a fruit bin at Covent Carding. An' two redbreasts had carried him to the round house, sir, afore they discovered his title. An' since his Grace ha' said time an' time afore Whipple, that he'll ha' Mr. Carvel's heart for that, and has called you most disgustin' bad names, sir. An' Whipple he says to me: 'Banks, drop your marster a word, an' you get the chance. His Grace'll speak him fair to's face, but let him look behind him.'" "I thank you again, Banks. I shall bear in mind your devotion," I replied. "But I had nothing to do with sending the duke to Covent Garden." "Ay, sir, so I tells Whipple." "Pray, how did you know?" I demanded curiously. "Lord, sir! All the servants at Almack's is friends o' mine," says he. "But Whipple declares his Grace will be sworn you did it, sir, tho' the Lord Mayor hisself made deposition 'twas not." "Then mark me, Banks, you are not to talk of this." "Oh, Lord, no, your honour," he said, as he fell back. But I was not so sure of his discretion as of his loyalty. And so I was led to perceive that I was not to be the only aggressor in the struggle that was to come. That his Grace did me the honour to look upon me as an obstacle. And that he intended to seize the first opportunity to make way with me, by fair means or foul. End of Project Gutenberg's Richard Carvel, Volume 5, by Winston Churchill