’Don’t be nervous.  To the point; you went into a field five miles out of London, in broad day, and stood in a ring, the usual Tiff-raff about you!’

’With the gloves:  and not for money, Sir:  for the trial of skill; not very many people.  I cannot quite see the breach of the law.’

’So you told the magistrate.  You were fined for your inability to quite see.  And you had to give security.’

’Mr. Durance was kindly responsible for me, sir:  an acquaintance of the magistrate.’

’This boxing of yours is a positive mania, Skepsey.  You must try to get the better of it—­must!  And my name too!  I’m to be proclaimed, as having in my service an inveterate pugilist—­who breaks the law from patriotism!  Male or female, these very respectable persons—­the people your show was meant for?’

‘Male, sir.  Females! . . . that is, not the respectable ones.’

’Take the opinion of the respectable ones for your standard of behaviour in future.’

’It was a mere trial of skill, sir, to prove to one of the spectators, that I could be as good as my word.  I wished I may say, to conciliate him, partly.  He would not—­he judged by size—­credit me with . . . he backed my adversary Jerry Scroom—­a sturdy boxer, without the knowledge of the first principles.’

‘You beat him?’

’I think I taught the man that I could instruct, sir; he was complimentary before we parted.  He thought I could not have lasted.  After the second round, the police appeared.’

‘And you ran!’

‘No, sir; I had nothing on my conscience.’

’Why not have had your pugilistic display in a publican’s room in town, where you could have hammer-nailed and ding-donged to your heart’s content for as long as you liked!’

’That would have been preferable, from the point of view of safety from intrusion, I can admit-speaking humbly.  But one of the parties—­I had a wish to gratify him—­is a lover of old English times and habits and our country scenes.  He wanted it to take place on green grass.  We drove over Hampstead in three carts and a gig, as a company of pleasure—­as it was.  A very beautiful morning.  There was a rest at a public-house.  Mr. Shaplow traces the misfortune to that.  Mr. Jarniman, I hear, thinks it what he calls a traitor in the camp.  I saw no sign; we were all merry and friendly.’

‘Jarniman?’ said Victor sharply.  ‘Who is the Jarniman?’

’Mr. Jarniman is, I am to understand from the acquaintance introducing us—­a Mr. Shaplow I met in the train from Lakelands one day, and again at the corner of a street near Drury Lane, a ham and beef shop kept by a Mrs. Jarniman, a very stout lady, who does the chief carving in the shop, and is the mother of Mr. Jarniman:  he is in a confidential place, highly trusted.’  Skepsey looked up from the hands he soaped:  ’He is a curious mixture; he has true enthusiasm for boxing, he believes in ghosts.  He mourns for the lost days of prize-fighting, he thinks that spectres are on the increase.  He has a very large appetite, depressed spirits.  Mr. Shaplow informs me he is a man of substance, in the service of a wealthy lady in poor health, expecting a legacy and her appearance to him.  He has the look—­Mr. Shaplow assures me he does not drink to excess:  he is a slow drinker.’