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Updated: June 26, 2025
'Two not sound, five true as steel, and the rest shillyshally. 'Slife, one lock loose serves us; but two saves us: five we're a match for, throwing in bluff Baron; the remainder go with victory. 'Can we trust this fellow? whispered Farina. 'Trust him! roared Guy. 'Why, I've thumped him, lad; pegged and pardoned him. Trust him? trust me!
"'Slife! your grace is grown very nice on a sudden!" he sneered. "The president of the Bold Bucks, the master of the Hell Fire Club, is most oddly squeamish where the diversions of another are concerned." "Diversions?" said his grace, his eyebrows raised until they all but vanished under the golden curls of his peruke. "Diversions? Ha! I observe that you make no attempt to deny the story.
We walked silently into the parlour, and I closed the door. "Slife!" cried Courtenay, "she's a vision. What say you, Philip? And I might see her in that guise again, egad, I would forgive Tom his five hundred crowns!" "A buxom vision," agreed my cousin, "but I vow I like 'em so." He had forgotten his cold. "This conversation is all of a piece with the rest of your conduct," said I, hotly.
But then the glimpse of a fine gentleman just out of bed of a morning, before he is made for the day, is unfair. "Morning, Charles! Howdy, Jack!" said his Lordship, apathetically. "Glad to know you, Mr. Carvel. Heard of your family. 'Slife! Wish there were more like 'em in the province." This sentiment not sitting very well upon his Lordship, I bowed, and said nothing.
There, his talents would make him an admiral, and doubtless give him the social position he secretly coveted. He confounded us all by his answer. "I thank you, Mr. Fox. But I cannot accept your kindness." "Slife!" said Fox, "you refuse? And you know what you are doing?" "I know usually, sir." Comyn swore. My exclamation had something of relief in it.
"'Slife, I had indeed forgotten. For the moment I had gone back twenty years, and to-morrow was none so near." He laughed softly, as though his lapse of memory amused him. Then he resumed: "I was the only son, Kenneth, of the noblest gentleman that ever lived the heir to an ancient, honoured name, and to a castle as proud and lands as fair and broad as any in England.
I dare make oath he has treated your son to a like instruction. 'Slife, sir, and he had his deserts, he would hang from a gibbet at the Town Gate." I raised up in bed to see the effect of this on my uncle. But however the wind veered, Grafton could steer a course. He got up and began pacing the room, and his agitation my grandfather took for indignation such as his own.
"For cold comforters commend me to these cropeared cuckolds," he grumbled. "They are all thought for a man's soul, but for his body they care nothing. Here am I who for the last ten hours have had neither meat nor drink. Not that I mind the meat so much, but, 'slife, my throat is dry as one of their sermons, and I would cheerfully give four of my five hours of life for a posset of sack.
I dare make oath he has treated your son to a like instruction. 'Slife, sir, and he had his deserts, he would hang from a gibbet at the Town Gate." I raised up in bed to see the effect of this on my uncle. But however the wind veered, Grafton could steer a course. He got up and began pacing the room, and his agitation my grandfather took for indignation such as his own.
Pacing the turf, on which the dew still gleamed and sparkled diamond-like, he pondered his course, and wondered now, at the last moment, was there no way to avert this meeting. Could not the matter be arranged? He was stirred out of his musings by Gascoigne's voice, raised to curse the tardiness of Lord Rotherby. "'Slife! Where does the fellow tarry?
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