James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. When you reach San Francisco, you can buy something more appropriate. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. The Protestant Flagellant, who whipped his soul rather than his body, who made self-denial the rack and the boot, who believed that on Sunday it was sacrilegious to smile, blasphemous to laugh! Spurlock had gone back spiritually three hundred years. Wood," cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart.
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