The latter placed himself before the door, observing in a quiet tone, that the other's reckoning was not yet wholly paid up. "How so?" asked Gale, in his loud, authoritative voice. "The oldest member has taken my half-guinea, and entered it in due course. Will you satisfy yourself, my young friend, by calling the landlord to produce his club-books? Pooh, pooh! young sir: the punch is strong, and you have drunk too much! Stand aside, I say, and let me pass!"
He did not like the set look of John Garnet's mouth; he liked less the low firm tones in which that gentleman repeated his assertion.
"You may or may not be in debt to the club—it is their affair. You owe an apology to one of the members—that is mine."
"Apology!" stormed the other. "Apology! what do you mean, sir? This is insolence. Don't attempt to bully me, sir! Again I say, at your peril, let me pass!"
"Do you refuse it?" asked John Garnet, in a low voice, setting his lips tighter while he spoke.
"I do!" was the angry reply. "And what then?"
"Nothing unusual," said the other, while he moved out of the way.
"Drawer! Please to show us an empty room."
A frightened waiter, with a face as white as his napkin, opened the door of an adjoining chamber, set a candle on the chimney-piece, and motioned the gentlemen in.
Garnet bowed profoundly, making way for his senior to pass. The other looked about him in uncertainty, and felt his heart sink, while he heard the voices of their departing companions, already in the street.