The Major flushed angrily.
“Sir,” he said, indignantly, “to that request you have already had your answer.”
“But the times have changed, Major, and I warn you that your answer had best change with them. Do you not see that I have your whole property in my power? Speak only this word and I will contrive that the Manor shall not be attacked, the Prince will easily be diverted from his plan, and I will get a special letter of protection for your whole household.”
“Rather than see my daughter wedded to you,” said the Major, sternly, “I would kill her with my own hand.”
“I believe you would, my sturdy Virginius,” said Norton, with a laugh. “However, I trust you will not come across her. To-morrow, when the Manor yields to Prince Maurice, my first thought shall be to take pretty Mistress Helena under my protection—no need in time of war for parsons or bridal ceremonies.”
At that the Major sprang forward white with anger, and struck Norton on the mouth.
“Curse you!” cried the Colonel, drawing his sword. “If you will force a quarrel upon me, let us fight it out at once; but I call the Lieutenant to witness that the provocation——”
“Hold your lying tongue, sir,” said the Major, pushing back the table and whipping out his sword, and the next moment the sharp clash of the blades rang through the room.
Gabriel was entirely absorbed in watching the combatants; he did not notice that a stalwart gentleman, with long, light brown hair and a short, pointed beard, had quietly opened the door behind him, and he started violently when Sir William Waller strode across the room, Joscelyn Heyworth closing the door as he followed his chief.
“Gentlemen!” exclaimed the General, striking up their swords. “What is the meaning of this?”