“No, I will not,” said I.
“Are you fool enough to wish to fight fair?”
“No,” said I, “I am wise enough to wish not to fight at all.”
“And how’s my brewer to be paid?” said the landlord.
“I really don’t know,” said I.
“I’ll change my religion,” said the landlord.
CHAPTER XII.—ANOTHER VISIT FROM THE MAN IN BLACK: HIS ESTIMATE OF MEZZOFANTE.
One evening Belle and myself received another visit from the man in black. After a little conversation of not much importance, I asked him whether he would not take some refreshment, assuring him that I was now in possession of some very excellent Hollands which, with a glass, a jug of water, and a lump of sugar, were heartily at his service; he accepted my offer, and Belle going with a jug to the spring, from which she was in the habit of procuring water for tea, speedily returned with it full of the clear, delicious water of which I have already spoken. Having placed the jug by the side of the man in black, she brought him a glass and spoon, and a teacup, the latter containing various lumps of snowy-white sugar: in the meantime I had produced a bottle of the stronger liquid. The man in black helped himself to some water, and likewise to some Hollands, the proportion of water being about two-thirds; then adding a lump of sugar, he stirred the whole up, tasted it, and said that it was good.
“This is one of the good things of life,” he added, after a short pause.
“What are the others?” I demanded.