"It’s like this," explained ’Frosty-face,’ mildly; "most of the males are for the fight; most of the women are against it. And his reverence here is against it, and you’re against it, Mr. Moses, and of course the constable is against it, being paid by the nation to be so. Well, I must tell you that in these cases, if the police appear on the ground, the fight is always stopped at once and the Fancy goes off--either into another county, where the warrant don’t hold, or else, if that’s impossible, they stop altogether till the next meeting is arranged by the referee. Now, in this business, the fight has either got to stop or not begin at all if the police put in their appearance, because there’s no getting into another county; so it all comes to this: if your reverence knows when and where the fight is to take place, you can stop it." "Then your duty stares you in the face, Mr. Fogo. You must tell me," asserted Mr. Merle. "It isn’t decided yet." "You’ll have a hand in the decision, all the same," declared Charles Moses. "Very like they’ll look to you to settle that point, as, with your learning of such things, would be natural." Mr. Fogo glanced round about him as though he feared an eavesdropper. "If I do this, and tell you the battle-ground, will you promise never to let it out?" he asked. "It will be for you to let it out, and triumph in your righteous action," said Mr. Merle. "Well, I’d rather not," answered the Deputy Commissary, with frankness. "I’ll do good by stealth, and ’twill be quite time enough for me to write and tell Mr. Shillabeer that ’twas my work after I’ve got back to London out of harm’s way. So there it stands: you’ve conquered me, your reverence. I put myself in your power. But this is thirsty work--this well-doing. Might I make so bold as to ask for a drop of liquor--spirits, if they may be taken without harm in the dwelling of holiness?" Mr. Merle went to his sideboard and got a bottle of whisky, from which the repentant Fogo helped himself to a stiff glass. "On Monday next at eleven o’clock the fight will begin, unless we stop it," he said. "And since, in the high name of the church and parson, it did ought to be stopped, stopped it shall be. The place is still a secret. But this I’ll do for the sake of my own salvation, and other reasons, including my great respect to your reverence--this I’ll do: on Monday morning next, at cock-light or earlier, I’ll be here in secret to meet the police and his reverence and Mr. Moses; and I’ll lead them to the ring. That’s the work of your Sunday sermon on the heart of a sinful creature, parson Merle. At five o’clock next Monday I’ll be at this house; but I trust those present to keep the secret, for if a word is breathed and it gets out, there’s men interested in this fight that will change the ’rondeyvoo’ and hide it even from me."