"Is Mr. Henry Bannerworth within, or Admiral Bell?"
"Both," cried the admiral. "I'm Admiral Bell, and this is Mr. Henry Bannerworth. What do you want with us, you d——d gingerbread-looking flunkey?"
"Sir, my master desires his compliments—his very best compliments—and he wants to know how you are after your flurry."
"What?"
"After your—a—a—flurry and excitement."
"Who is your master?" said Henry.
"Sir Francis Varney."
"The devil!" said the admiral; "if that don't beat all the impudence I ever came near. Our flurry! Ah! I like that fellow. Just go and tell him—"
"No, no," said Henry, interposing, "send back no message. Say to your master, fellow, that Mr. Henry Bannerworth feels that not only has he no claim to Sir Francis Varney's courtesy, but that he would rather be without it."
"Oh, ha!" said the footman, adjusting his collar; "very good. This seems a d——d, old-fashioned, outlandish place of yours. Any ale?"