haeton into town and said, 'Fortescue never
had a hand light enough for these chestnuts. I always knew what I could
do with them if they were my own.'"

"Lackington never said that. I 'll take my oath of it he never did!"
cried Beecher, passionately.

"Take your oath of it!" said Davis, with an insulting sneer. "Do you
mind the day old Justice Blanchard--it was at the York assizes--said,
'Have a care, Mr. Beecher, what you are about to swear; if you persist
in affirming that document, the consequences may be more serious than
you apprehend?' And do you remember you did n't swear?"

"I 'll tell you what, Master Grog," said Beecher, over whose face a
sudden paleness now spread, "you may speak of _me_ just as you like. You
and I have been companions and pals for many a day; but Lackington is
the head of my family, he has his seat in the Peers, he can hold up
his head with the best in England, and I 'll not sit here to listen to
anything against him."

"You won't, won't you?" said Grog, placing a hand on either knee, and
fixing his fiery gray eyes on the other's face. "Well, then, I 'll tell
you that you _shall!_ Sit down, sir,--sit down, I say, and don't
budge from that chair till I tell you! Do you see that hand? and that
arm,--grasp it, squeeze it,--does n't feel very like the sinews of a
fellow that feared hard labor. I was the best ten stone seven man in
England the year I fought Black Joe, and I 'm as tough this minute, so
that Norfolk Island needn't frighten me; but the Hon. Annesley Beecher
would n't like it, I 'll promise him. He 'd have precious pains in the
shoulder-blades, and very sore feelings about the small of the back,
after the first day's stone-breaking. Now, don't provoke me, that's all.
When the world has gone so bad with a man as it has with _me_ the last
year or two, it's not safe to provoke him,--it is not."

"I never meant to anger you, old fellow," began Annesley.

"Don't do it, then,--don't, I say," repeated the other, doggedly; and he
resumed the letter, saying: "When you 're a-writing the answer to this
here letter, just ask Grog Davis to give you a paragraph. Just say,
'Grog, old fellow, I 'm writing to my noble brother; mayhap you have a
message of some kind or other for him,' and you 'll see whether he has
or not."

"You 're a rum one, Master Davis," said Beecher, with a laugh that
revealed very little of a heart at ease.

"I'm one that won't stand a fellow that doesn't run straight