"It does, in truth," he returned, ignoring my last words. "It leaves much--very much. You see that yourself, Mr. Buckler. So, to-morrow! Return by the way you came, and come to me again tomorrow. We can talk at leisure. It is over-late to-night."
"Nay, my lord," said I, drawing some solid comfort from the wheedling tone in which he spake. "Your servants will be abroad in the house tomorrow, and, as you were careful to remind me, I am not in England. I have waited for some six hours upon the parapet of your terrace, and I have no mind to let the matter drag to another day."
His eyes shifted uneasily about the room; but ever they returned to the shining barrel of my pistol.
"Well, well," said he at length, with a shrug of the shoulders, and a laugh that rang flat as a cracked guinea, "one must needs listen when the speaker holds a pistol at your head. Say your say and get it done."
He flung himself into a chair which stood in the corner by the window. I sat me in the one from which he had risen, drawing it closer to the fire. A little table stood within arm's reach, and I pulled it up between us and laid my pistol on the edge.
"I have come," said I, "upon Sir Julian Harnwood's part."
"Pardon me!" he interrupted. "You will oblige me by speaking English, and by speaking it low."
The request seemed strange, but 'twas all one to me what language we spoke so long as he understood.
"Certainly," I answered. "I am here to undertake his share in the quarrel which he had with you, and to complete the engagement which was interrupted on the Kingsdown."
"But, Mr. Buckler," he said, with some show of perplexity, "the quarrel was a private one. Wherein lies your right to meddle with the matter?"