ials, he might study Latin and Greek and forget the high old time
he had had in London formerly.

This, he said, had been a pretty slow business, and quite given him the
jumps. He began to find himself sighing for the old days. Plato and
Socrates were fine old boys, but he preferred "The Boys of Boulogne" at
the Apollo, and no mistake about it. So he had given up keeping house
with Plato and the other gentleman, and was going over to France, when
he discovered Captain Blackham's adventure with Jenny Frobisher of the
Opera House, and wanted to know more about it. Did they think he would
put up with that? Not for a minute, and, seeing that you can't get law
in such affairs in this country, he meant to do his own law-making.
That very night he had asked Captain Blackham to come to this house
that they might meet and have it out like gentlemen should do. One of
them would not return--he left it to the company to bear witness that
all was done squarely as between men of honour, and he begged them to
keep his confidence. It was then half-past three. They might expect
the Captain in ten minutes, during which time he would make his
preparations. He was sure they would never betray him.

You may imagine the excitement this speech gave rise to. I was at the
bottom of the stairs at the time, and I could hear the women crying out
to each other, and the men asking what it all meant. Such a confusion
and babel I shall never listen to again in any house. What with some
running downstairs and calling for their carriages, the band playing,
his lordship bawling for his servants--and, upon all this, the sudden
arrival of the Captain, who carried a pair of swords in his hand--why,
no madhouse could have matched it.

Well enough, I say, for Lord Crossborough to ask people not to betray
him; but what woman could hold her tongue under such circumstances, and
how did he think that such a game could be played and the police hear
nothing of it? Why, I tell you that half a dozen girls were bawling
"Murder!" before five minutes were past, and as many more imploring the
police outside to step up and stop it. For myself I made no bones
about the matter; and, not wishing to appear in a police court next
day, and thinking certainly that Lord Crossborough was as mad as any
first-floor tenant of Hanwell, I pushed my way through the press and
went off to the garage. Ten pound or no ten pound, I was for bed.
Will you ask me if I was surpr