my gig, took off my hat, and shouted, 'God Almighty bless you, Jack!' The
dying man turned his pale grim face towards me--for his face was always
somewhat grim, do you see--nodded and said, or I thought I heard him say,
'All right, old chap.' The next moment . . . my eyes water. He had a
high heart, got into a scrape whilst in the Marines, lost his half-pay,
took to the turf, ring, gambling, and at last cut the throat of a villain
who had robbed him of nearly all he had. But he had good qualities, and
I know for certain that he never did half the bad things laid to his
charge; for example, he never bribed Tom Oliver to fight cross, as it was
said he did, on the day of the awful thunderstorm. Ned Flatnose fairly
beat Tom Oliver, for though Ned was not what's called a good fighter, he
had a particular blow, which if he could put in he was sure to win. His
right shoulder, do you see, was two inches farther back than it ought to
have been, and consequently his right fist generally fell short; but if
he could swing himself round, and put in a blow with that right arm, he
could kill or take away the senses of anybody in the world. It was by
putting in that blow in his second fight with Spring that he beat noble
Tom. Spring beat him like a sack in the first battle, but in the second
Ned Painter--for that was his real name--contrived to put in his blow,
and took the senses out of Spring; and in like manner he took the senses
out of Tom Oliver.

"Well, some are born to be hanged, and some are not; and many of those
who are not hanged are much worse than those who are. Jack, with many a
good quality, is hanged, whilst that fellow of a lord, who wanted to get
the horse from you at about two-thirds of his value, without a single
good quality in the world, is not hanged, and probably will remain so.
You ask the reason why, perhaps. I'll tell you: the lack of a certain
quality called courage, which Jack possessed in abundance, will preserve
him; from the love which he bears his own neck he will do nothing that