"Indeed, Sir John, you are very right--do but hearken to the brutes," says Mr. Tawnish, with lifted finger, as from the floor above came a roar of voices singing a merry drinking-catch, with the ring of glasses and the stamping of spurred heels. "Hark to 'em," he repeated, with a gesture of infinite disgust; "these are creatures the which, having all the outward form and semblance of man, yet, being utterly devoid of all man's finer qualities, live but to quarrel and fight--to eat and drink and beget their kind--in which they be vastly prolific, for the world is full of such. To-night it would seem they are in a high good humour, wherefore they are a trifle more boisterous than usual, indulging themselves in these howlings and shoutings, and shall presently drink themselves out of what little wit Dame Nature hath bestowed upon 'em, and be carted home to bed by their lackeys--pah!" "How--what?" gasps Jack, while I sat staring (very nearly open-mouthed) at the cool audacity of the fellow. "Are you aware, sir," cries Jack, when at last he had regained his breath, "that the persons you have been decrying are friends of mine, gallant gentlemen all--aye, sir, damme, and men to boot!--hard-fighting, hard-riding, hard-drinking, six-bottle gentlemen, sir?" "I fear me my ignorance of country ways hath led me into a grave error," says Mr. Tawnish, with a scarce perceptible shrug of the shoulders; "upon second thoughts I grant there is about a man who can put down one throat what should suffice for six, something great." "Or roomy!" adds Bentley, in a strangling voice. "We are at side issues," says Jack, very red in the face, "the point being, that I forbid you my daughter once and for all." "Might I enquire your very excellent reasons?" "Plainly, then," returns Jack, hitting himself in the chest again, "the Lady Penelope Chester must and shall marry a man, sir." "Yes," nodded Mr. Tawnish, "a man is generally essential in such cases, I believe." "I say a man, sir," roared Jack, "and, damme, I mean a man, and not a clothes-horse or a dancing master, or--or a French sauce, sir. One who will not faint if a dog bark too loudly, nor shiver at sight of a pistol, nor pick his way ever by smooth roads. He must be a man, I say, able to use a small-sword creditably, who knows one end of a horse from another, who can win well but lose better, who can follow the hounds over the roughest country and not fall sick for a trifle of mud, nor fret a week over a splashed coat--in a word, he must be a man, sir."