"At Dartford!" added Barnabas.

"And when Bell was knocked down, at the end of the fight--"

"After the ninety-seventh round!" nodded Barnabas.

"My father, sir, was the first to jump into the ring and clasp the

Champion's fist--and proud he is to tell of it!"

"Proud!" said Barnabas, staring.

"Proud, sir--yes, why not? so should I have been--so would any man

have been. Why let me tell you, sir, at home, in the hall, between

the ensign my uncle's ship bore through Trafalgar, and the small

sword my grandfather carried at Blenheim, we have the belt John Barty

wore that day."

"His belt!" exclaimed Barnabas, "my--John Barty's belt?"

"So you see I should know what I am talking about. Therefore, when

you condemn such a justly celebrated man of his hands as my friend

Carnaby, I naturally demand to know who you are to pronounce judgment?"

"I am one," answered Barnabas, "who has been taught the science by

that very Nathaniel Bell and 'Glorious John' you mention."

"Hey--what?--what?" cried his Lordship.

"I have boxed with them regularly every day," Barnabas continued,

"and I have learned that strength of arm, quickness of foot, and a

true eye are all unavailing unless they be governed by a calm,

unruffled temper, for passion clouds the judgment, and in fighting

as in all else, it is judgment that tells in the long run."

"Now, by heaven!" exclaimed his Lordship, jerking his imprisoned

legs pettishly, "if I didn't happen to be sitting trussed up here,

and we had a couple of pair of muffles, why we might have had a

friendly 'go' just to take each other's measures; as it is--"

But at this moment they heard a hoarse bellow, and, looking round,

beheld the Bo'sun who, redder of face than ever and pitching and

rolling in his course, bore rapidly down on them, and hauling his

wind, took off the glazed hat.

"Ha, Jerry!" exclaimed his Lordship, "what now? If you happen to

have anything else eatable in that hat of yours, out with it, for I

am devilish sharp-set still."

"Why, I have got summat, Master Horatio, but it aren't bread nor yet

beef, nor yet again biled 'am, my Lord--it can't be eat nor it can't

be drank--and here it be!" and with the words the Bo'sun produced a

ponderous iron key.

"Why, my dear old Jerry--my lovely Bo'sun--"

"Captured by his Honor, Master Horatio--carried off by the Cap'n

under your own father's very own nose, sir--or as you might say, cut

out under the enemy's guns, my Lord!" With which explanation the old

sailor unfastened the padlock, raised the upper leg-board, and set

the prisoner free.




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