Mathews instinctively took a couple of steps back, while Long, still holding Betsy’s hand, bent his head before the ladies and young Captain Horneck, of the Guards, who had just appeared by the side of his fiancée, Lord Albemarle’s daughter.
There was a pause in the conversation passing round that little group—an electric pause, it seemed; every one appeared to be waiting for a thunderbolt to fall, for Mathews had a reputation for being an element of the lurid in the atmosphere of Bath. For a few moments after Long and Betsy had gone, he seemed uncertain what course to adopt; but suddenly he appeared to have light granted to him. He bent his malacca cane until he made both ends meet; then, with an oath, he hurried after Long and Betsy.
He overtook them before they had gone twenty yards, but while he was still some way behind them he called out:
“A word with you, Mr. Long, if you please.”
Mr. Long turned round.
“I wish no words with you, sir,” he said.
“But I wish some with you, sir,” said Mathews, coming up to him, “I wish to give you a word of warning. I wish you to hear me swear that the day you wed Elizabeth Linley shall be your last on earth.”
Long smiled in his face, and then in the terrified face of the girl by his side.
“What a compliment Mr. Mathews pays to you, Miss Linley!” said he. “My last day on earth—true; for thenceforth I shall be in heaven. Thank you, Mr. Mathews.”