“I’m waitin’ for ye, Sal!” returned the elderly gentleman, with a mysterious crook of the finger. [Illustration: 0221] “Ye may go to Bath,” replied the fair one, “and if that does’nt agree with your constitution, why go to ------” and she named a locality of much higher temperature. “I say, Sall, ye vont go, vont ye?” and Mr. Spicer made an advance three steps nearer to the lemon box. “Not the length of that nose of yours, and its the longest and ugliest in the room. If it would’nt be an impertinent question, Mr. Spicer, what did ye do wid ye’r other nine wives?--By gogstay--if all the neighbours say is true, Bluebeard was a gentleman to ye!” The remark was an unhappy one. A lady, whom Mr. Spicer in earlier life had honoured with his hand, had been found dead under suspicions circumstances, which rendered it a doubtful point to determine whether her sudden exit was attributable to gin or strangulation. In consequence, Mr. S. had to enter into a lengthened explanation at the Old Bailey; and “having the luck of thousands,” the jury gave him the benefit of a doubt, and finally left it upon gin. The allusion, therefore, touched rather a tender point, and hurried matters to a crisis. Mr. Spicer sprang forward, and seized his lady by the arm--and Mark Antony, retaining the other, put in a decided remonstrance. In Scott’s parlance-- “Few were the words, and stern, and high, That mark’d the foemen’s jealous hate; For question fierce, and proud reply, Gave signal soon of dire debate.” Mr. Spicer, discommoding himself of his coat and neckcloth, made a sporting offer to fight for five pounds, which Mr. O’Toole accepted, only making the consideration love, and not money--a proposition that was received with general applause. To all official accounts of modern battles, “preliminary observations” are prefixed. In early life, Mr. Spicer had been professional--but, obtaining what he considered a safer line of business, he abandoned the ring, to repose himself under the shade of his own laurels. Blinded by the green monster, he reckoned a little too much upon his former science, forgetting the odds that youth and superior size had placed against him. Both parties had their backers.--“Now, old-un, mind your dodge!” exclaimed the supporters of Mr. Spicer--while the admirers of Mark Antony, recommending the “young-un to be awake,” added, “that the ould file was a deep dodger;” and intimated that it would be advisable to “look sharp to his left daddle, for that was his nasty one.” One other appeal--and a last one, came from the corner; “For the sake of Jasus, to keep the skrimmage as far from the corps as they could.” The admonition was the cry of wisdom, and it was disregarded accordingly.