Page:Eliot - Felix Holt, the Radical, vol. I, 1866.djvu/195

Rh Mr Scales, with some impatience, "I don't pretend to know."

"It was law—law—that's what it was. Not but what the Transomes always won."

"And always lost," said the too-ready Scales.

"Yes, yes; I think we all know the nature of law."

"There was the last suit of all made the most noise, as I understood," continued Mr Crowder; "but it wasn't tried hereabout. They said there was a deal o' false swearing. Some young man pretended to be the true heir—let me see—I can't justly remember the names—he'd got two. He swore he was one man, and they swore he was another. However, Lawyer Jermyn won it—they say he'd win a game against the Old One himself—and the young fellow turned out to be a scamp. Stop a bit—his name was Scaddon—Henry Scaddon."

Mr Christian here let a lemon slip from his hand into the punch-bowl with a plash which sent some of the nectar into the company's faces.

"Hallo! What a bungler I am!" he said, looking as if he were quite jarred by this unusual awkwardness of his. "Go on with your tale, Mr Crowder—a scamp named Harry Scaddon."

"Well, that's the tale," said Mr Crowder. "He