“Is this a cut?” said Mr. Drummle.

“Oh!” said I, poker in hand; “it’s you, is it?  How do you do?  I was wondering who it was, who kept the fire off.”

With that, I poked tremendously, and having done so, planted myself side by side with Mr. Drummle, my shoulders squared and my back to the fire.

“You have just come down?” said Mr. Drummle, edging me a little away with his shoulder.

“Yes,” said I, edging him a little away with my shoulder.

“Beastly place,” said Drummle. — “Your part of the country, I think?”

“Yes,” I assented.  “I am told it’s very like your Shropshire.”

“Not in the least like it,” said Drummle.

Here Mr. Drummle looked at his boots, and I looked at mine, and then Mr. Drummle looked at my boots, and I looked at his.

“Have you been here long?” I asked, determined not to yield an inch of the fire.

“Long enough to be tired of it,” returned Drummle, pretending to yawn, but equally determined.

“Do you stay here long?”

“Can’t say,” answered Mr. Drummle.  “Do you?”

“Can’t say,” said I.

I felt here, through a tingling in my blood, that if Mr. Drummle’s shoulder had claimed another hair’s breadth of room, I should have jerked him into the window; equally, that if my own shoulder had urged a similar claim, Mr. Drummle would have jerked me into the nearest box.  He whistled a little.  So did I.

“Large tract of marshes about here, I believe?” said Drummle.

“Yes.  What of that?” said I.

Mr. Drummle looked at me, and then at my boots, and then said, “Oh!” and laughed.

“Are you amused, Mr. Drummle?”

“No,” said he, “not particularly.  I am going out for a ride in the saddle.  I mean to explore those marshes for amusement.  Out-of-the-way villages there, they tell me.  Curious little public-houses — and smithies — and that.  Waiter!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is that horse of mine ready?”

“Brought round to the door, sir.”

“I say.  Look here, you sir.  The lady won’t ride to-day; the weather won’t do.”

“Very good, sir.”

“And I don’t dine, because I’m going to dine at the lady’s.”

“Very good, sir.”

Then, Drummle glanced at me, with an insolent triumph on his great-jowled face that cut me to the heart, dull as he was, and so exasperated me, that I felt inclined to take him in my arms (as the robber in the story-book is said to have taken the old lady), and seat him on the fire.

One thing was manifest to both of us, and that was, that until relief came, neither of us could relinquish the fire.  There we stood, well squared up before it, shoulder to shoulder and foot to foot, with our hands behind us, not budging an inch.  The horse was visible outside in the drizzle at the door, my breakfast was put on the table, Drummle’s was cleared away, the waiter invited me to begin, I nodded, we both stood our ground.