“Went on to Renshaw's and won fifty pounds at hazard, took Blake's odds on Diadem, and booked myself for a berth in the Boulogne steamer, which leaves at two this morning.”
“You secured a passport for me, did n't you?”
“No. You'll have to come as my servant. The Embassy fellows were all strangers to me, and said they would not give a separate passport without seeing the bearer.”
“All right. I don't dislike the second cabin, nor the ladies'-maids. What about the pistols?”
“They are yonder under the great-coat. Renshaw lent them. They are not very good, he says, and one of them hangs a little in the fire.”
“They 'll be better than the old Irishman's, that's certain. You may swear that his tools were in use early in the last century.”
“And himself, too; that's the worst of it all. I wish it was not a fellow that might be my grandfather.”
“I don't know. I rather suspect, if I was given to compunctions, I'd have less of them for shaking down the rotten ripe fruit than the blossom.”