“I am informed,” said Sir John Lade, “that Crab Wilson’s age is
twenty-three, and that, although he has never fought a regular P.R.
battle, he has none the less fought within ropes for a stake on many
occasions.”
“I’ve seen him half a dozen times at the least,” said Belcher.
“It is precisely for that reason, Sir John, that I am laying odds of two
to one in his favour.”
“May I ask,” said the Prince, “what the exact height and weight of Wilson
may be?”
“Five foot eleven and thirteen-ten, your Royal Highness.”
“Long enough and heavy enough for anything on two legs,” said Jackson,
and the professionals all murmured their assent.
“Read the rules of the fight, Sir Lothian.”
“The battle to take place on Tuesday, May the 18th, at the hour of ten in
the morning, at a spot to be afterwards named. The ring to be twenty
foot square. Neither to fall without a knock-down blow, subject to the
decision of the umpires. Three umpires to be chosen upon the ground,
namely, two in ordinary and one in reference. Does that meet your
wishes, Sir Charles?”
My uncle bowed.
“Have you anything to say, Wilson?”
The young pugilist, who had a curious, lanky figure, and a craggy, bony
face, passed his fingers through his close-cropped hair.
“If you please, zir,” said he, with a slight west-country burr, “a
twenty-voot ring is too small for a thirteen-stone man.”
There was another murmur of professional agreement.
“What would you have it, Wilson?”
“Vour-an’-twenty, Sir Lothian.”
“Have you any objection, Sir Charles?”
“Not the slightest.”
“Anything else, Wilson?”
“If you please, zir, I’d like to know whom I’m vighting with.”
“I understand that you have not publicly nominated your man, Sir
Charles?”
“I do not intend to do so until the very morning of the fight. I believe
I have that right within the terms of our wager.”
“Certainly, if you choose to exercise it.”
“I do so intend. And I should be vastly pleased if Mr. Berkeley Craven
will consent to be stake-holder.”
That gentleman having willingly given his consent, the final formalities
which led up to these humble tournaments were concluded.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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