Oh, what a rage Elgert was in! To be spoken to like that! He, the Honourable Horace Elgert!
He went home and told his father, and Lord Elgert rode over in a terrible passion to demand an explanation from Mr. St. Clive.
But that gentleman took things very calmly, and his lordship got little satisfaction from him.
"It is my belief, sir, that my son is correct, and that you have been harbouring a fugitive from justice!" shouted his lordship. "It is like you to do that. You have taken that young rascal, Rexworth, in spite of the knowledge that his father is a man who attempted to rob me."
"Pardon me, Lord Elgert," answered Mr. St. Clive, "I have tried to repay a debt of gratitude I owe to a brave boy, who rescued my child from death, at the peril of his own life, because you would not take the trouble to have your bull properly secured. As to the knowledge that his father tried to rob you, I know nothing of the kind."
"I have told you so. You have my word for it," replied Lord Elgert; and Mr. St. Clive answered drily—
"That is a very different thing from knowing it."
"You insult me, sir! You deliberately insult me! But be careful, or you shall answer for it. Make no mistake, you shall answer for it!" And with that, his lordship rode off in a towering rage.
Mr. St. Clive did not trouble to tell Ralph all the unkind things which Lord Elgert had said, for there was nothing to be gained by causing the boy pain; and so, after giving them all hot cocoa, Warren and Charlton were sent off to their homes, and Ralph was glad to get to bed, for he was quite tired out.
And then, after one of those quiet Sundays which he had got to value so much, he set off for school on the Monday morning, calling for Charlton, and meeting with Warren on the way.