“One step nearer! one step!” said Daly, as he took a pistol from the pocket of his coat.
The man hesitated and looked at O'Reilly, as if for advice or encouragement; but terror and rage had now deprived him of all self-possession, and he neither spoke nor signed to him.
“Leave the room, sir,” said the Knight, with a motion of his hand to the bailiff; and the ruffian, whose office had familiarized him long with scenes of outrage and violence, shrank back ashamed and abashed, and slipped from the room without a word.
“I believe, Mr. O'Reilly,” continued Darcy, with an accent calm and unmoved,—“I believe our conference is now concluded. I will not insult your own acuteness by saying how unnecessary I feel any reply to your demand.”
“In that case,” said O'Reilly, “may I presume that there is no objection to proceed with those legal formalities which, although begun without my knowledge, may be effected now as well as at any other period?”
“Darcy, there is but one way of dealing with that gentleman—”
“Bagenal, I must insist upon your leaving this matter solely with me.”
“Depend upon it, sir, your interests will not gain by your friend's counsels,” said O'Reilly, with an insolent sneer.
“Such another remark from your lips,” said Darcy, sternly, “would make me follow them, if they went so far as—”
“Throwing him neck and heels out of that window,” broke in Daly; “for I own to you it's the course I 'd have taken half an hour ago.”