'Halloo, old boy! how goes it?'—an inquiry to which our friend deigned no answer.
''Ord rot ye! you're awake,' muttered Facey to himself, well knowing that no one could sleep after such a 'Jim-Crow-ing' and 'Swiss-boy-ing' as he had given him. He therefore resumed his battery, thumping as though he would knock the partition in.
'Halloo!' at last exclaimed Mr. Sponge, 'who's there?'
'Well, old Sivin-Pund-Ten, how goes it?' asked Facey, in a tone of the keenest irony.
'You be ——!' growled Mr. Sponge, in disgust.
'Breakfast in half an hour!' resumed Facey. 'Pigs'-puddin's and sarsingers—all 'ot—pipin' 'ot!' continued our host.
'Wish you were pipin' 'ot,' growled Mr. Sponge, as he jerked himself out of his little berth.
Though Facey pumped him pretty hard during this second pig repast, he could make nothing out of Sponge with regard to his movements—our friend parrying all his inquiries with his Mogg, and assurances that he could amuse himself. In vain Facey represented that his Oncle Gilroy would be expecting them; that Mr. Hobler was ready for him to ride over on; Sponge wasn't inclined to shoot, but begged Facey wouldn't stay at home on his account. The fact was, Sponge meditated a bolt, and was in close confab with Leather, in the Rose and Crown stables, arranging matters, when the sound of his name in the yard caused him to look out, when—oh, welcome sight!—a Puddingpote Bower messenger put Sir Harry's note in his hand, which had at length arrived at Jog's through their very miscellaneous transit, called a post. Sponge, in the joy of his heart, actually gave the lad a shilling! He now felt like a new man. He didn't care a rap for Facey, and, ordering Leather to give him the hack and follow with the hunters, he presently cantered out of town as sprucely as if all was on the square.
When, however, Facey found how matters stood, he determined to stop Sponge's things, which Leather resisted; and, Facey showing fight, Leather butted him with his head, sending him backwards downstairs and putting his shoulder out. Leather than marched off with the kit, amid the honours of war.