"your man may be the father of twelve or the father of lies; but I'll
not marry him after stroke of noon, for that's my rule. Moreover"--
he swept a hand towards the bridal party behind him--"these turtles
have invited me to eat roast duck and green peas with 'em, and I hate
my gravy cold."

"Ay, sir?" asked my uncle. "Do you tell me that folks marry and give
in marriage within this dreadful place?"

"Now and then, sir; and in the liberties and purlieus thereof with a
proclivity that would astonish you; which, since I cannot hinder it,
I sanctify. My name is Figg, sir--Jonathan Figg; and my office,
Chaplain of the Fleet."

"And if it please you, sir," I put in, "my father has sent me in
search of you, to beg that you will come to him at once."

"And you have heard me say, young sir, that I marry no man after
stroke of noon; no, nor will visit him sick unless he be in _articulo
mortis_."

"But my father neither wants to be married, sir, nor is he sick at
all. I believe it is some matter of witnessing an oath."

"Hath he better than roast duck and green peas to offer, hey? No?
Then tell him he may come and witness _my_ oath, that I'll see him
first to Jericho."

"Whereby, if I mistake not," said Mr. Knox, quietly, "your pocket
will continue light of two guineas; and I may add, from what I know