“That fellow Power had a band of ruffians with him. If he had fought fair I shouldn’t have minded, but—”
“What were you doing,” I said, “to make him attack you? He must have had some reason.”
“I wasn’t doing anything. I was simply looking on.”
“That may have been the most objectionable thing possible,” I said. “I don’t say that his violence was justified; but it may have been quite excusable if you insisted on looking on at something which he didn’t want you to see.”
Godfrey actually tried to smile. He could not do so, of course, on account of the condition of his mouth, but I judged by the expression of his eyes that he was trying to. Godfrey’s smiles are always either malicious or idiotic. This one, if it had come off, would have been malicious.
“I saw all I wanted to,” he said, “before they attacked me. In fact, I was just going for the police—”
“I suppose you sent for the police this morning?” I said.
“No, I didn’t. I don’t trust the police. I wouldn’t trust the magistrates here, except you, of course, Excellency. What I’m going to do is write to the Chancellor of the Exchequer.”
“Good gracious, Godfrey! Why the Chancellor of the Exchequer? What interest can you expect him to take in your fights? If you are going to make a political matter of it at all, you’d far better try the Secretary of State for War. It’s much more in his line.”
“But the Chancellor of the Exchequer is the man who’s responsible for the revenue, isn’t he?”