Joses fell on his face, and stayed there fumbling, while he vomited oaths.
"Look out!" cried the girl sharply. "He's got a knife, and he'll use it."
She was right. Joses was busy with that wooden-handled sheath-knife of his.
Silver took a step forward.
"Ah, then!—would you?" he scolded, and hit the other a tap over the wrist with the handle of his hunting crop.
Joses yelped and dropped the knife.
Then he scrambled to his feet, wringing his hand.
The brown of his face had turned a dirty livid.
"I see what it is!" he cried. "Assignation. And I spoiled the sport—what! You and the dandy toff.
Him and me,
Beside the sea.