As for Walter Middleton, he had collared the young miscreant before the word was fairly out of his mouth. But an instant's reflection caused the young gentleman to release the culprit, with the words:
"My father's house and the presence of these young ladies protect you for the present, sir."
Ishmael stood alone, in the center of a shocked and recoiling circle of young girls; so stunned by the epithet that had been hurled at him that he scarcely yet understood its meaning or felt that he was wounded.
"What did he say, Walter?" he inquired, appealing to his friend.
Walter Middleton put his strong arm around the slender and elegant form of Ishmael, and held him firmly; but whether in a close embrace or light restraint, or both, it was hard to decide, as he answered:
"He says what will be very difficult for him to explain, when he shall be called to account to-morrow morning; but what, it is quite needless to repeat."
"I say he is a ——! His mother was never married! and no one on earth knows who his father was—or if he ever had a father!" roared Alfred brutally.
Walter's arm closed convulsively upon Ishmael. There was good reason. The boy had given one spasmodic bound forward, as if he would have throttled his adversary on the spot; but the restraining arm of Walter Middleton held him back; his face was pale as marble; a cold sweat had burst upon his brow; he was trembling in every limb as he gasped:
"Walter, this cannot be true! Oh, say it is not true!"
"True! no! I believe it is as false—as false as that young villain's heart! and nothing can be falser than that!" indignantly exclaimed young Middleton.