"To rid you of a dun, my fellow," said Jack. "I saw the rascal had worked himself into a phrensy, and that you were at your wit's end. I had pity on your distresses, and so ran in with a huge lie, as irresistible as a broadsword, to the rescue. Victory and Jo Pæan! I have routed the enemy, and you are no longer in fear. Keep up the fire, and you are easy for a week."
"But my uncle really intends to leave me that fourteen thousand a year?" said I.
"Has he got it?" said Jack, giving me a comical stare.
"Jack," said I, after pausing a little, "I want to ask you a favour."
"Have but twenty-five in the world," said Tickle, pulling out his pocketbook; "but you shall have ten."
"It isn't that," said I; "I want you to tell me my history."
"Your history!" said Tickle, staring at me in surprise.