Should you
still be suffering from spleen, liver or the blue devils, go for a
gallop on your "Wildfire."
With which salutary advice to yourself and good wishes to your friend
Mr. Vere-Manville,
I REST,
YOUR AFFECTIONATE UNCLE,
JERVAS.
"Mr. Shrig," said I, "you have my uncle's permission to wait upon him
at once. Sir Jervas is acquainted with you, it seems?"
"Sir Jervas?" repeated Mr. Shrig, reaching down for hat and knobby
stick. "Ackvainted? I should say so, sir! A reg'lar bang-up blood, a
downright 'eavy toddler--oh, I know Sir Jervas, ackvainted is the
werry i-denti-cal name for it! So, with your permission, sir, I'll be
padding on my vay."
"You will find him at his chambers in--"
"St. James's Street, nigh opposite to Vite's, Mr. Werricker, sir. Ah
many's the drop o' French brandy, glass o' port or sherry as I've
drank to the 'ealth o' your uncle in them werry i-dentical chambers,
sir. A gent wi' a werry elegant taste in crime is Sir Jervas. No,
don't trouble to come down, sir, your young man shall let me out. A
reg'lar treasure that 'ere young man o' yours, Mr. Werricker! Good
morning, gen'elmen both, my best respex!"
So saying, Mr. Shrig bobbed his head to us in turn, beamed as it might
have been in benediction, and took himself away.
CHAPTER III
CONCERNING A BLACK POSTCHAISE
"Begad, Perry, but that's a vicious brute of yours!" cried Anthony.
This as Wildfire curvetted, snorting, sidled and performed an
impassioned dance upon the footpath.
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