"Well, never say I did not warn you," his friend concluded sagely.

"You may depend upon it," Eversleigh assured him, slowing his steps as they approached the gate of Horton's house. "Will you be at Jackson's in the morning?"

"Yes, I think I shall need a good workout at the punching balls," Horton said, patting ruefully his liquor-filled stomach.

"I shall see you there, then," Eversleigh said. "Good night. "

**********************************************************************************

Later the same day, in a remote corner of the estate belonging to Sir Peter Tallant in Sussex, four youths could be seen walking their horses on one side of a hedge, keeping to the shade. They were avoiding the unexpected heat of the April afternoon sun, having galloped and dared one another over fences for the past hour or more.

George Hyde and Douglas Raeburn were spending the day with their longtime neighbor and friend Giles Tallant. Henry Tallant had tagged along with them, as so often happened. The three friends were reminiscing about their days together at Oxford University, now still in recess for Easter. Henry listened with avid interest.

"Do you remember old Boner's face when Freddie Cox smuggled Bessie Lane into the dorm one night and then took her out the front door the next morning as bold as you please?" Douglas said.

There were three hearty guffaws.

"What happened?" asked Henry.

"They met old Boner, our warden, at the bottom of the stairs," Giles explained. "He turned six shades of purple."

"Old Cox didn't turn a hair," George continued. "He introduced Bessie to old Boner with as much civility as if she had been a lady being presented at court. And old Boner was so taken aback, he bowed as formal as you please, and said, 'How d'ye do, ma'am?' After that, he could not very well do anything to Cox. He just pretended to forget the whole incident."