“That for your likes, Luftdon,� cried the other as contemptuous of his companion as of me apparently. “Tell her, my man, tell her. Tell her that she is a beggar and her father a suicide, and that I have all her property without her. She can go to your arms or those of any other she fancies. She is not meet for the Duke of Arcester.�
So this was Arcester! I had heard of him, as I had of Luftdon, two of the most debauched, unprincipled rakes, idlers, fortune hunters, gamblers, men-about-town, in all England. But of the two he bore much the worse reputation. Indeed, no one in that day surpassed him in baseness and villainy. But that he was a duke, he had been branded, jailed, or even hanged long since in England. But I cared nothing for his dukedom. As he spoke thus slightingly of my lady, I stepped closer to him and struck him with the palm of my hand. I suppose a gentleman would have tapped him lightly but not being of that degree I struck hard across the face, not so hard as I might have, to be sure, for I could doubtless have killed him, but hard enough to make him reel and stagger. His sword was out on the moment but before he could make a pass I wrenched it from him, broke the blade over my knee and hurled the two pieces into the coppice.
“I can match you with swords,� said I, coolly enough now that the issue was made and the battle about to be joined. “I have fought with men, not popinjays, in my day, all over the world, and I know the use of the weapon; but I would not demean myself, being an honest man though no gentleman, much less a duke, by crossing blades with such a ruffian.�
“By God!� cried the duke furiously, “I will have you flogged and flung into the mill pond, I will clap you in jail, I will—�
“You will do nothing of the sort,� said I, composedly. “There is no man on the estate who would not take my part against you, especially when I repeat what you have said about Mistress Lucy. They love her and they loved him. With all his drink and extravagance he was a good master and you have been a bad friend.�
“And who would believe you?� queried the duke, whose anger was at a frightful height in being thus braved and insulted. In his agitation he tore at his neckcloth and almost frothed at the mouth like a man in a fit—I doubt he had ever been so spoken to before. “’Twould be your word against mine, you dog, and—�
“For the matter of that, my word will not be uncorroborated,� I interrupted swiftly.
“What d’ ye mean, curse you?�
“This gentleman—�
“By gad,� said Lord Luftdon, decisively, responding to my appeal more bravely than I had thought, “you are right to appeal to me and you were right to strike Arcester. ’Fore God, I’m sorry for the girl and for Sir Geoffrey and ashamed for my—my—friend.�