“You?” said he, recovering himself with an effort, “you?” and, as he spoke, I saw his left eyelid twitch suddenly.

“Exactly,” I answered, “I think I can stand up to even you—­for five minutes.”  Now, as I spoke, he winked at me again.  That it was meant for me was certain, seeing that his back was towards the others, though what he intended to convey I could form no idea, so I assumed as confident an air as possible and waited.  Hereupon the one-eyed man broke into a sudden raucous laugh, in which the others joined.

“’Ark to ’im, lads,” he cried, pointing to me with the stern of his pipe, “’e be a fine un to stand up to Tom Cragg—­I don’t think.”

“Tell ‘un to go an’ larn hisself to grow whiskers fust!” cried a second.

“Ay, to be sure, ’e aren’t got so much as our old cat!” grinned a third.

“Stay!” cried the one-eyed man, peering up at me beneath his hand.  “Is they whiskers a-peepin’ at me over ’is cravat or do my eyes deceive me?” Which pleasantry, called forth another roar of laughter at my expense.

Now, very foolishly perhaps, this nonsense greatly exasperated me, for I was, at that time, painfully conscious of my bare lips and chin.  It was, therefore, with an effort that I mastered my quickly rising temper, and once more addressed myself to Cragg.

“I am willing,” said I, “to accept your conditions and fight you—­for a guinea—­or any other man here for that matter, except the humorous gentleman with the watery eye, who can name his own price.”  The fellow in question stared at me, glanced slowly round, and, sitting down, buried his face in his tankard.

“Come, Tom Cragg,” said I, “a while ago you seemed very anxious for a man to fight; well—­I’m your man,” and with the words I stripped off my coat and laid it across a chairback.

This apparent willingness on my part was but a cloak for my real feelings, for I will not here disguise the fact that the prospect before me was anything but agreeable; indeed my heart was thumping in a most unpleasant manner, and my tongue and lips had become strangely parched and dry, as I fronted Cragg.

Truly, he looked dangerous enough, with his beetling brow, his great depth of chest, and massive shoulders; and the possibility of a black eye or so, and general pounding from the fellow’s knotted fists, was daunting in the extreme.  Still, the chance of earning a guinea, even under such conditions, was not to be lightly thrown away; therefore I folded my arms and waited with as much resolution as I could.

“Sir,” said Cragg, speaking in a very altered tone, “sir, you seem oncommon—­eager for it.”

“I shall be glad to get it over,” said I.

“If,” he went on slowly, “if I said anything against—­you know who, I’m sorry for it—­me ‘aving the greatest respec’ for—­you know who—­you understand me, I think.”  And herewith he winked, three separate and distinct times.