"My name is Rupert Holliday, sir," the lad said, as the stranger shook his hand warmly, and who, as the lackey approached with the torch, exclaimed:
"Why, by the king's head, you are but a stripling, and you have run one of these fellows through the body, and disarmed the other, as neatly as I ever saw it done in the schools. Why, young sir, if you go on like this you will be a very Paladin."
"I have had good masters, sir," Rupert said, modestly; "and having been taught to use my sword, there is little merit in trouncing such rascals as these."
"By my faith, but there is though," the stranger said. "It is one thing to fence in a school with buttoned foils, another to bear oneself as calmly and as well as you did. But here are your friends, or I mistake not."
The coach came lumbering up, at a speed which for coaches in those days was wonderful, and as it stopped Colonel Holliday leapt out, sword in hand.
"Is it all over?" he exclaimed. "Is Rupert hurt?"
"It is all over, sir; and I have not so much as a scratch," Rupert said.
"Sir," the stranger said, uncovering, and making a courtly bow to the old cavalier, and to Mistress Dorothy, who was looking from the open door, "your son--"
"My grandson," the colonel, who had also uncovered, corrected.
"Your grandson arrived in time to save me from grievous peril. My coachman and lackey were shot at the first fire, and I fancy one of the horses. I disposed of one of the rascals, but four others pressed me hard, while a fifth held a light to them. Your grandson ran one through in fair fight, and disarmed another; I disabled a third, and they ran. I have to thank him for my life; and, if you will permit me to say so--and I have been many frays--no man ever bore himself more coolly, or used his sword more skilfully, than did this young gentleman."