“Would you turn against me in this?� asked the duke, surprised at this amazing defection.
“I certainly would,� answered the other with dogged courage.
“God!� whispered his grace hotly, fumbling at the empty sheath, “I wish I had my sword. I’d run the two of you through!�
“There is Sir Geoffrey’s sword,� said Lord Luftdon, who did not lack courage, it seemed, clutching his own blade as he spoke and making as if to draw it.
“No,� said I, master of the situation as I meant to be, “there shall be no more fighting over the dead body of Sir Geoffrey. You and Lord Luftdon can settle your differences elsewhere. I am glad for his promise to tell the truth in case you attempt to carry out your threat and I am just as grateful as if it had been necessary.�
“On second thought, there will be no further settlement,� said Luftdon, regaining his coolness and thrusting back into its scabbard his half-drawn blade. “His grace and I are in too many things to make a permanent difference between us possible.�
“I thought so,� I replied.
“By gad,� laughed Luftdon, “I like your spirit, lad. Who are you, what are you?�
“The late gardener’s son.�
“Do they breed such as you down here in these gardens?�