‘Would you resist the law?’ says he.

‘Not the law, sir!’ said I.  ’I hope I am too good a subject for that.  But for a nameless fellow with a bald head and a pair of gingham small-clothes, why certainly!  ’Tis my birthright as an Englishman.  Where’s Magna Charta, else?’

‘We will see about that,’ says he; and then, addressing the assistants, ‘where does the constable live?’

‘Lord love you, sir!’ cried the landlord, ’what are you thinking of?  The constable at past ten at night!  Why, he’s abed and asleep, and good and drunk two hours agone!’

‘Ah that a’ be!’ came in chorus from the yokels.

The attorney’s clerk was put to a stand.  He could not think of force; there was little sign of martial ardour about the landlord, and the peasants were indifferent—­they only listened, and gaped, and now scratched a head, and now would get a light to their pipes from the embers on the hearth.  On the other hand, the Major and I put a bold front on the business and defied him, not without some ground of law.  In this state of matters he proposed I should go along with him to one Squire Merton, a great man of the neighbourhood, who was in the commission of the peace, the end of his avenue but three lanes away.  I told him I would not stir a foot for him if it were to save his soul.  Next he proposed I should stay all night where I was, and the constable could see to my affair in the morning, when he was sober.  I replied I should go when and where I pleased; that we were lawful travellers in the fear of God and the king, and I for one would suffer myself to be stayed by nobody.  At the same time, I was thinking the matter had lasted altogether too long, and I determined to bring it to an end at once.

‘See here,’ said I, getting up, for till now I had remained carelessly seated, ’there’s only one way to decide a thing like this—­only one way that’s right English—­and that’s man to man.  Take off your coat, sir, and these gentlemen shall see fair play.’  At this there came a look in his eye that I could not mistake.  His education had been neglected in one essential and eminently British particular:  he could not box.  No more could I, you may say; but then I had the more impudence—­and I had made the proposal.

’He says I’m no Englishman, but the proof of the pudding is the eating of it,’ I continued.  And here I stripped my coat and fell into the proper attitude, which was just about all I knew of this barbarian art.  ‘Why, sir, you seem to me to hang back a little,’ said I.  ’Come, I’ll meet you; I’ll give you an appetiser—­though hang me if I can understand the man that wants any enticement to hold up his hands.’  I drew a bank-note out of my fob and tossed it to the landlord.  ‘There are the stakes,’ said I.  ’I’ll fight you for first blood, since you seem to make so much work about it.  If you tap my claret first, there are five guineas for you, and I’ll go with you to any squire you choose to mention.  If I tap yours, you’ll perhaps let on that I’m the better man, and allow me to go about my lawful business at my own time and convenience, by God; is that fair, my lads?’ says I, appealing to the company.