"Take that back or I'll kill you."
The Viscount sputtered.
"Then down on your knees," said the captain: and in five seconds he had his victim groveling on the floor. "Take those words back, and ask my pardon, here and now, on your knees, before I wring your neck."
"I ... take them back. I ... I beg your pardon," moaned the Viscount.
He was about to rise when the captain dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder and forced him down again.
"And to-morrow you sign that inventory?"
With a very foul oath the Viscount said at length, "I sign."
"Very well. As for the Abbot's questions you and he shall settle it between you. But mark. Don't try revenge. If anything goes wrong with me in Lisbon—with my promotion, with my career—I sha'n't let you off a second time, you blackguard. Even if it's some other man's intrigue, it's your dirty neck I shall come and wring. If you want to be on the safe side you'd better see to it that I'm major next week and colonel before next year is out. You son of a pig, get up!"