“Don’t doubt me. I’ve seen her look at you. I know she loves you, and no one would injure her heart—but look out, my men are coming!” cries De Busaco.
Turning back on his skates Chester makes for his ship, near which he finds Antony and two or three others bending over the body of the Spanish officer Guy had left so suddenly.
“They killed him after you went on,” remarks Oliver. “I have kept them away from his body because of you. He was a very gallant gentleman.”
“Because of me?” cries Guy. “Do you think I will gloat over a fallen hero. Still if accident had not come to me I should have finished him myself, I think, though he had a rare sword’s play in his arm.”
“That would have been horrible,” says the painter.
“Why?”
“You would have committed suicide.”
“Suicide! What do you mean?”
“I mean that there will be weeping soon from eyes you love, when your death is reported to her.”
“Buffoon! What do you mean?”