"I have observed, Mr. Lovely, that if one of these missiles happens to strike the body against which it is aimed the result is invariably an accident whereas if the missile goes wide of the mark it is a d----d poor shot. But it cannot go on, Mr. Lovely. It shall not go on. The residents acting in conjunction with the visitors reserve the right to expel summarily any person who causes publick offence, and I, as their accredited representative, should be in the highest degree culpable if I allowed it to go on. Consequently, my dear Charles, I appeal to you as to one possessed of some influence over the more violent spirits, to do all in your power of persuasion to prevent it from going on." Now as the successful quart bottle had been thrown by our hero, and as he was usually the chief agent in promoting a disturbance, it is evident that Mr. Ripple secured his unparalleled authority as much by tact as by severity. "Dear Beau, you shall be obliged," said Charles, "and now pray tell me who wears a white swansdown tippet and lives hard by the Great House." "I am not accustomed to observe the minor variations in feminine costume," answered Mr. Ripple with some austerity. "Nay! But a hermit froze to his psalter must have noticed her," protested the younger man. "The analogy is incomplete." "I shall be at the Assembly on Monday night." "You could not be more worthily employed." "And I shall effect an introduction under your patronage." "That very much depends." "On my good behaviour?" asked Charles. "On the immunity of my watchmen from further assaults." "Dear Beau, we are all targets of a--" he hesitated, "of a dimpled nudity or an empty bottle. Love and a bottle, there's the world." "The flesh, I think, sir." "I 'faith, Satan must have a fine sieve if he can separate the pair." "I am no theologian." "Then you'll present me?" persisted Charles. "You will protect my watchmen?" demanded the Beau. "On Monday night?" urged Charles. "Every night," added the Beau. "Unconditional surrender is my ultimatum. But I hope I know how to display generosity towards a vanquished enemy. You will attend the Publick Breakfast awarded to Sir Jeremy Dummer?" "Truly I----" "Tut, tut, I insist. My old friend Lord Cinderton arrives to-day with his invalid son, George Harthe-Brusshe. I should like the young man to see your cherry and trout-pink cuffs." "Too unseasonable a combination of colours for breakfast." "Pshaw! your appearance will give a fillip to his impoverished appetite." "I 'faith, I believe I know how to flavour my conversation with Attick salt, but I swear I never dressed myself for the Role of condiment." The conversation was soon entirely of sauces. _Chapter the Fourth_ CURTAIN MAZE