THE HOUR OF FORTUNE.

NICK THE SECOND.

"Down the road,-down the road,—ya! hip! there goes the bang-up tippers!—that 'ere in the snowy Benjamin is Jem Larkins, as drives the Funny Woman, all the way from Cheltenham, thirteen mile an hour."

"Oh! a rare fight it will be, von't it, Jem ?"

'Vell, I'm blow'd if that ben't a turn out, however. Who is them coves in the brishky?

"Oh, them's the backers; that 'ere on the near side is Sir Philip Pudgil, and this here on the far side is the Honourable Mr. Augustus Scamp. Sir Philip backs Bill for a couple o' hundreds."

The two gentlemen thus described by the

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ostler of the Queen's Head, proceeded rapidly on their way to Hurly Bottom, where a grand pugilistic contest was appointed to take place. Their conversation on the road was brief, as both seemed to prefer their private cogitations to the interchange of speech. When they drew near the place of contest, they began to look out with considerable anxiety for their respective men. The crowd collected was immense; but leaving their carriage, they had no great difficulty in making their way to the little alehouse where the combatants remained till the hour fixed on for entering the ring. Here the gentlemen separated, Sir Philip proceeding to the apartment of Bill, and Mr. Scamp repairing to that of the other combatant.

"I'll tell you what it is, Tom," said the Honourable Augustus, when he found himself alone with his champion, 66 you must make a cross of it, and lose.”

66

Why so, sir? I've posted the blunt on my own side, and must do my best to win."

"Nonsense; I'll make up your losses— the odds are six to four on you. I've taken them all, to the tune of eight thousand pounds. I'll pay your bets, and make it a five hundred screen in your favour besides.”

Oh, as to that, I can wap Bill or lose to him, for sartain,—but are you sure he's not bought to lose too?-for, if so be, you know he may give in the first blow, and we must win in spite of ourselves."

"No danger of that; Sir Philip's fresh in the ring, and orders him to do his best. Now he's a regular glutton, so you may give him as much as you like the first four or five rounds, and take as much as he'll give you. You had better sprain your wrist in the seventh or eighth round, when the odds have risen to twelve to one, and give in about the twelfth."