He stopped short, as much astonished as I was, while I sank down on the seat next the stern, ready to sob, and put up my hands before my face.
“That cursed Jew has cheated me of my life!” I groaned between my set teeth.
Rupert rested the point of his cutlass upon the seat in front of him and looked over at me curiously.
“Young man,” he said, “your life is forfeit to me, and it hath never been said that Rupert Gurney spared an enemy. Yet, inasmuch as you are of my blood and but raw in the world, I have half a mind to make terms with you. Will you make your apology for the violence you put upon me in the tavern, and swear to repeat its terms before all those who were witnesses of our dispute?”
I looked up at him and smiled bitterly in his face.
“Do you understand me so little, and you a Ford by the mother’s side?” I answered him. “Now that I have no weapon you may murder me if you will, but apology you shall have none from me—unless,” I added, “you take back your insult to the woman I love.”
“You young fool!” he ground out savagely. “That drab you make such a to-do about has been mine this two months past.”
I leave it unsaid how these words affected me, both then and for long afterwards. For up to that moment I had looked upon the girl with as pure a reverence as any boy ever cherished for a maid, and my cousin’s vile boast, cast it back to him as I might, sank into my mind and worked there like a poison.
“I believe you lie,” I said to him with marvellous coldness. For what with the loss of blood, and the despair which had seized upon me at the breaking of my weapon, and the news I had just received, I was become quite dispirited, and was indifferent to what he might do with me.
“Die, then, since you will have me kill you!” he exclaimed, and began advancing down the boat towards me.