She pulled up before the door of the main building, sprang from her saddle, threw the bridle to a man in attendance, and rushed into the house and into the presence of Mr. John Stone, who was busy in prescribing for an indisposed pointer.
He looked up in astonishment, exclaiming:
"Hilloe! All the witches! Here's Cap! Why, where on earth did you shoot from? What's up now? You look as if you were in a state of spontaneous combustion and couldn't stand it another minute."
"And I can't—and I won't! John Stone, you must call that man out!"
"What man, Cap—what the deuce do you mean?"
"You know well enough—you do this to provoke me! I mean the man of whom you cautioned me this afternoon—the wretch who slandered me—the niece of your host!"
"Whe—ew!"
"Will you do it?"
"Where's Percy?"
"On the lounge with an ice in one hand and a novel in the other! I suppose it is no use mincing the matter, John—he is a—mere epicure—there is no fight in him! It is you who must vindicate your cousin's honor!"