"My Knowsley and Chalkley's Cheshire Pile, and a White Pile of Campbell's against Winnington's Cuckoo."
The semi-final dragged out its bloody length, until for the final was left Mr. Clare's famous Knowsley cock, his ebony breast dabbled with blood and his red pinions ragged and broken, but still preserving some of the smartness of their slantwise trimming—trimmed so in order that by a lucky stroke an adversary's eye might be put out. The survivor of the two Services was Mr. Campbell's White Pile, stained with crimson.
"Will your bird win?" whispered Mr. Lovely.
"I think so," said Clare, "he comes of a good breed."
"Two to one in Tens against the Pile," shouted Mr. Lovely.
"Done," said Vernon.
"Two to one in Twenties against the Pile," shouted Mr. Lovely.
"Done," said Mr. Vernon.
"Three to one in Fifties," shouted Mr. Lovely.
And this wager also was taken by Mr. Francis Vernon.