"I'll do better nor that," he muttered. "Listen, you 'ere," and, leaning forward, he shouted out one word at the top of his voice—"Yah! coward!"
I saw my father reel backwards as though he were shot, and the word he was uttering died away upon his lips. For a moment I hesitated whether to rush to him or at the man who had yelled out that word. But one glance at his ugly, triumphant face decided me. With two rapid strides I was across the room, and my hand was on his collar.
"Come on!" I shouted, "come along!"
He turned his fishy eyes up at me in amazement.
"What d'ye want? What d'ye mean?" he called out. "Let me go, you young cub, you! You're choking me."
"I'll do worse than choke you before I've done," I cried, passionately. "Come outside and fight, you great beast," and I dragged him half across the floor, for he was striving to free himself and shaking like a jelly-fish.
The audience had sat quite still in their places until now, only half realising what was going on. But at my words it seemed suddenly to dawn upon them, and they crowded around us with a full appreciation of my intended action.
"Let him be, Maester Hugh; we'll bring him along," they cried heartily, for there was not one whom I did not know. "We won't let him go, no fear. Who be 'e to call Maester Arbuthnot names?"
The man whom I jealously released shook himself sulkily and slouched along in the middle of the crowd towards the door.
"I don't want to be let go," he sneered. "If the boy wants a whipping I'll give it 'im. Most like he's a coward like his father though, and won't stand up to it."