'No, sir; the truth is, that of late I have been very much occupied with
various matters, otherwise I should, perhaps, have been able to afford
you some information--boxing is a noble art.'
'Can you box?'
'A little.'
'I tell you what, my boy; I honour you, and provided your education had
been a little less limited, I should have been glad to see you here in
company with Parr and Whiter; both can box. Boxing is, as you say, a
noble art--a truly English art; may I never see the day when Englishmen
shall feel ashamed of it, or blacklegs and blackguards bring it into
disgrace. I am a magistrate, and, of course, cannot patronise the thing
very openly, yet I sometimes see a prize fight: I saw the Game Chicken
beat Gulley.'
'Did you ever see Big Ben?'
'No; why do you ask?' But here we heard a noise, like that of a gig
driving up to the door, which was immediately succeeded by a violent
knocking and ringing, and after a little time the servant who had
admitted me made his appearance in the room. 'Sir,' said he, with a
certain eagerness of manner, 'here are two gentlemen waiting to speak to
you.'
'Gentlemen waiting to speak to me! who are they?'
'I don't know, sir,' said the servant; 'but they look like sporting
gentlemen, and--and'--here he hesitated; 'from a word or two they
dropped, I almost think that they come about the fight.'
'About the fight!' said the magistrate. 'No; that can hardly be;
however, you had better show them in.'
Heavy steps were now heard ascending the stairs, and the servant ushered
two men into the apartment. Again there was a barking, but louder than
that which had been directed against myself, for here were two intruders;
both of them were remarkable-looking men, but to the foremost of them the
most particular notice may well be accorded: he was a man somewhat under
thirty, and nearly six feet in height. He was dressed in a blue coat,
white corduroy breeches, fastened below the knee with small golden
buttons; on his legs he wore white lamb's-wool stockings, and on his feet
shoes reaching to the ankles; round his neck was a handkerchief of the
blue and bird's eye pattern; he wore neither whiskers nor moustaches, and
appeared not to delight in hair, that of his head, which was of a light
brown, being closely cropped; the forehead was rather high, but somewhat
narrow; the face neither broad nor sharp, perhaps rather sharp than
broad; the nose was almost delicate; the eyes were grey, with an
expression in which there was sternness blended with something
approaching to feline; his complexion was exceedingly pale, relieved,
however, by certain pock-marks, which here and there studded his
countenance; his form was athletic, but lean; his arms long. In the
whole appearance of the man there was a blending of the bluff and the
sharp. You might have supposed him a bruiser; his dress was that of one
in all its minutiae; something was wanting, however, in his manner--the
quietness of the professional man; he rather looked like one performing
the part--well--very well--but still performing a part. His
companion!--there, indeed, was the bruiser--no mistake about him: a tall
massive man, with a broad countenance and a flattened nose; dressed like
a bruiser, but not like a bruiser going into the ring; he wore
white-topped boots, and a loose brown jockey coat.
As the first advanced towards the table, behind which the magistrate sat,
he doffed a white castor from his head, and made rather a genteel bow;
looking at me, who sat somewhat on one side, he gave a kind of nod of
recognition.
'May I request to know who you are, gentlemen?' said the magistrate.
'Sir,' said the man in a deep, but not unpleasant voice, 'allow me to
introduce to you my friend, Mr. ---, the celebrated pugilist'; and he
motioned with his hand towards the massive man with the flattened nose.
'And your own name, sir?' said the magistrate.
'My name is no matter,' said the man; 'were I to mention it to you, it
would awaken within you no feeling of interest. It is neither Kean nor
Belcher, and I have as yet done nothing to distinguish myself like either
of those individuals, or even like my friend here. However, a time may
come--we are not yet buried; and whensoever my hour arrives, I hope I
shall prove myself equal to my destiny, however high--
'Like bird that's bred amongst the Helicons.'
And here a smile half theatrical passed over his features.
'In what can I oblige you, sir?' said the magistrate.
'Well, sir; the soul of wit is brevity; we want a place for an
approaching combat between my friend here and a brave from town. Passing
by your broad acres this fine morning we saw a pightle, which we deemed
would suit. Lend us that pightle, and receive our thanks; 'twould be a
favour, though not much to grant: we neither ask for Stonehenge nor for
Tempe.'
My friend looked somewhat perplexed; after a moment, however, he said,
with a firm but gentlemanly air, 'Sir, I am sorry that I cannot comply
with your request.'
'Not comply!' said the man, his brow becoming dark as midnight; and with
a hoarse and savage tone, 'Not comply! why not?'
'It is impossible, sir; utterly impossible!'
'Why so?'
'I am not compelled to give my reasons to you, sir, nor to any man.'
'Let me beg of you to alter your decision,' said the man, in a tone of
profound respect.
'Utterly impossible, sir; I am a magistrate.'
'Magistrate! then fare ye well, for a green-coated buffer and a
Harmanbeck.'
'Sir!' said the magistrate, springing up with a face fiery with wrath.
But, with a surly nod to me, the man left the apartment; and in a moment
more the heavy footsteps of himself and his companion were heard
descending the staircase.
'Who is that man?' said my friend, turning towards me.
'A sporting gentleman, well known in the place from which I come.'
'He appeared to know you.'
'I have occasionally put on the gloves with him.'
'What is his name?'