n,--and all at once some chap sang out just
in front, 'Let's burst up the blooming show!'--only he used a stronger
word. And a lot of us yelled hooray, and to it we went. I don't mean I
had a hand in the pillaging and smashing,--it wouldn't have done for
a man just starting in business to be up at the police-court,--but I
looked on and laughed--laughed till I could hardly stand! They set
to work on the refreshment place. It was a scene if you like! Fellows
knocking off the heads of bottles, and drinking all they could, then
pouring the rest on the ground. Glasses and decanters flying right and
left,--sandwiches and buns, and I don't know what, pelting about. They
splintered all the small wood they could lay their hands on, and set
fire to it, and before you could say Jack Robinson the whole place was
blazing. The bobbies got it pretty warm--bottles and stones and logs of
wood; I saw one poor chap with the side of his face cut clean open. It
does one good, a real stirring-up like that; I feel better to-day than
for the last month. And the swearing that went on! It's a long time
since I heard such downright, hearty, solid swearing. There was one chap
I kept near, and he swore for a full hour without stopping, except when
he had a bottle at his mouth; he only stopped when he was speechless
with liquor.'

'I wish I'd been there,' said Miss. French gaily. 'It must have been no
end of fun.'

'A right down good spree. And it wasn't over till about eight o'clock.
I stayed till the police had cleared the grounds, and then came home,
laughing all the way. It did me good, I tell you!'

'Well, shall we go and see the lawyer?' suggested Beatrice.

'Right you are.--Have a drink first? Nice quiet place round in Fleet
Street--glass of wine. No? As you please, old chum.--Think this shop
'll do, don't you? You must come round when it's finished. But I daresay
you'll be here many a time--on biz.'

'Oh, I daresay.'

And as they went down the stairs, Crewe laughed again at his
recollections of yesterday's sport.

CHAPTER 6

Gusts of an October evening swept about the square of the old Inn,
and made rushes at the windows; all the more cosy seemed it here in
Tarrant's room, where a big fire, fed into smokeless placidity,
purred and crackled. Pipe in mouth, Tarrant lay back in his big chair,
gracefully indolent as ever. Opposite him, lamp-light illuminating her
face on one side, and fire-gloom on the other, Nancy turned over