'I hope you have put the Queen of Cheap Jacks down for something handsome. If you have done that, we will sign cheerfully.'
'Not for a penny,' answered Drownlands. 'Everything I have goes to my niece. Here is ink and here a pen. Gentlemen, this is my true act and deed.'
'My hand shakes,' said Christian; 'I have been laughing, and cannot hold a pen.'
'And mine is jarred,' said Wilkins, 'with the thundering blows of that swashbuckler, Abbott.'
Jesting, laughing, the three men complied with the request of Drownlands, hardly regarding what they were about.
'I say, Abbott,' said Wilkins, 'what was that promise that fell from ruby lips relative to an epergne?'
'We were to raffle for one,' said the admiral.
'Can't do it,' said Christian. 'We have not got the others here. We'll hoist Bates on to a horse and make him come another day, when this confounded business of the riots is over.'
'You have got the favour, Abbott,' said Wilkins, 'but not by fair swordsmanship. Whether you carry it to Ely is another matter. Christian, shall he hoist it at the end of his toasting-fork and ride? We'll give him a hundred yards, and then pursue, and he who overtakes, captures the favour and carries it into the city.'
'Done—we'll race the admiral for it.' Then, turning to Zita, 'We'll come another day and raffle for the epergne at a guinea a-piece. The pool goes to you. Now then, brother justices, away we go!'