"Then I tell you, John Wilkes, or John the Devil, or whatever your name maybe, that if you don't at once take yourself off, I will let daylight into you," and he drew his sword, as did his two companions.
John gave a whistle, and the wooden-legged man was heard hurrying up from Fenchurch Street.
"Cut the scoundrel down, Penrose," Harvey exclaimed, "while I put the lady into the chair."
The man addressed sprang at Wilkes, but in a moment his Court sword was shivered by a blow from the latter's cudgel, which a moment later fell again on his head, sending him reeling back several paces.
"Stay, sir, or I will run you through," Cyril said, pricking Harvey sharply in the arm as he was urging Nellie to enter the chair.
"Oh, it's you, is it?" the other exclaimed, in a tone of fury. "My boy of Cheapside! Well, I can spare a moment to punish you."
"Oh, do not fight with him, my lord!" Nellie exclaimed.
"My lord!" Cyril laughed. "So he has become a lord, eh?"
Then he changed his tone.
"Mistress Nellie, you have been deceived. This fellow is no lord. He is a hanger-on of the Court, one John Harvey, a disreputable blackguard whom I heard boasting to his boon-companions of his conquest. I implore you to return home as quietly as you went. None will know of this."