announced, "I've got to give you a hiding, but I'd never
have taken the job on if I'd known you were a bantam weight. Better
come on and get it over. I shan't do more than knock you about a bit."

"I don't think you'll even do that," Jacob replied, without moving.

The man solemnly took off his coat, unfastened his collar and tie and
turned up his shirt sleeves as though he meant business.

"Come on, guv'nor," he invited, making a feint in Jacob's direction.
"I won't hurt you more than I can help."

Jacob withdrew his right hand from behind his back, and the little
revolver which he was holding flashed in a glint of sunshine.

"I'll give you till I count ten to get outside," he said.

The man promptly abandoned his sparring position and turned towards
the grating.

"'Ere," he called out truculently, "see that, guv'nor?"

"Don't be afraid," Hartwell rejoined. "It isn't loaded."

The prize fighter took a step forward.

"... ten," concluded Jacob, who had been counting all the time.

There was a sharp report and a yell of pain. The prize fighter,
hopping on his right leg and holding his left ankle, seized a bar of
the grating.

"If you don't let me out, you b--y b--s, I'll pound you both into a
jelly!" he shouted. "I've a damned good mind to do it now! This'll
cost you five hundred quid, this will! If I can't fight next Tuesday,
it'll cost you a thousand. Open the b--y door!"

They let him out, and Jacob, through the aperture, watched the three
men make slow progress to the boat, one on each side supporting the
Glasgow Daisy, whose language the whole of the way was vociferous and
obscene. Afterwards Jacob once more found time hanging heavily upon
his hands. He sharpened his penknife and commenced to carve his
initials on the wall. There were no signs of Lady Mary or any other
visitors until after dinner. Then the Marquis came slowly down from
the castle, paused to light a cigarette when he reached the boat, and
paddled himself over, looking around all the time with the air of one
enjoying the scenery and the beautiful evening. Finally he climbed the
stone stairs and presented himself at the other side of the grating.

"Mr. Pratt," he said, "I am sorry that you did not appreciate our
friends' little effort to provide you with some amusement in the way
of your favourite sport."

"Thank you," Jacob replied, "I don't fight professional heavyweights."

"I am afraid," the Marquis observed with a sigh, "that thi