`That'll be a double encore if you take care, boys,' said Mr Crummles. `You had better get your wind now and change your clothes.'
Having addressed these words to the combatants, he saluted Nicholas, who then observed that the face of Mr Crummles was quite proportionate in size to his body; that he had a very full under-lip, a hoarse voice, as though he were in the habit of shouting very much, and very short black hair, shaved off nearly to the crown of his head -- to admit (as he afterwards learnt) of his more easily wearing character wigs of any shape or pattern.
`What did you think of that, sir?' inquired Mr Crummles. `Very good, indeed -- capital,' answered Nicholas.
`You won't see such boys as those very often, I think,' said Mr Crummles.
Nicholas assented -- observing that if they were a little better match --
`Match!' cried Mr Crummles.
`I mean if they were a little more of a size,' said Nicholas, explaining himself.
`Size!' repeated Mr Crummles; `why, it's the essence of the combat that there should be a foot or two between them. How are you to get up the sympathies of the audience in a legitimate manner, if there isn't a little man contending against a big one? -- unless there's at least five to one, and we haven't hands enough for that business in our company.'
`I see,' replied Nicholas. `I beg your pardon. That didn't occur to me, I confess.'
`It's the main point,' said Mr Crummles. `I open at Portsmouth the day after tomorrow. If you're going there, look into the theatre, and see how that'll tell.'
Nicholas promised to do so, if he could, and drawing a chair near the fire, fell into conversation with the manager at once. He was very talkative and communicative, stimulated perhaps, not only by his natural disposition, but by the spirits and water he sipped very plentifully, or the snuff he took in large quantities from a piece of whity-brown paper in his waistcoat pocket. He laid open his affairs without the smallest reserve, and descanted at some length upon the merits of his company, and the acquirements of his family; of both of which, the two broad-sword boys formed an honourable portion. There was to be a gathering, it seemed, of the different ladies and gentlemen at Portsmouth on the morrow, whither the father and sons were proceeding (not for the regular season, but in the course of a wandering speculation), after fulfilling an engagement at Guildford with the greatest applause.
`You are going that way?' asked the manager.
`Ye-yes,' said Nicholas. `Yes, I am.'
`Do you know the town at all?' inquired the manager, who seemed to consider himself entitled to the same degree of confidence as he had himself exhibited.
`No,' replied Nicholas.
`Never there?'
`Never.'
Mr Vincent Crummles gave a short dry cough, as much as to say, `If you won't be communicative, you won't;' and took so many pinches of snuff from the piece of paper, one after another, that Nicholas quite wondered where it all went to.