"Good old marquis," said Gordon. "When we get up to town, I'll put you on the betht thing in the market. I will, so help me!"
Carteret Williams and Plant got on well together. They talked first of Bramber and Carew.
"Carew's all right," said Williams; "all right for an artist. I was in the Ashanti war with an artist once. I put his head in a bucket of water!"
"Why?" asked Plant.
"Because he was too drunk to draw," said Williams. "He hated me when he got sober, and caricatured me. I never liked artists afterward. But when Penelope put me into harness with Carew, I found there was good stuff in him. He could work. He talked awful rot, but there was something at the back of it. I had to own it. How did you get on with Bramber?"
"I thought him a damn fool," said Plant. "But I found out he wasn't. There's stuff in Bramber. My—I mean, Penelope knew that. I say, as he isn't here, poor chap, will you come to Spilsby with me to-morrow?"
Williams started.
"How did you come to think of Spilsby?" he asked, suspiciously.
"The bishop's butler told me. I gave him five pounds," said Plant.
"I gave him two," said Williams. "Yes, I'll go with you, as Carew isn't here. I like Carew now. Poor Carew!"