The decision had been sound. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. . Their example was immediately imitated by the officers, constables, javelin men, and other attendants; and nothing was to be heard but shouts of laughter and jesting,—nothing seen but the passing of glasses, and the emptying of foaming jugs. This formidable person, who was no other than the renowned Figg, the "Atlas of the sword," as he is termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his hat and "skull covering," and was wiping the heat from his bepatched and closeshaven pate. “But I am your husband,” he said. "Yes—what do you mean, Ma'am?" added Jack, staggering after her. "I was just going," said Thames. Blueskin is booked.
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