‘I have a special regard for them,’ he went on; ‘and I don’t want them meddled with. It’s not every one knows how to handle them. Some amongst them I would not have injured for their weight in diamonds. One in particular I should like to give you the history of—just to show you that I am right in being careful over them.—Here comes the light.’
I presume it had been hurriedly arranged between them as Clara left him that she should send one of the maids, who in consequence now made her appearance with a candle. Brotherton took it from her and approached the wall.
‘Why! What the devil! Some one has been meddling already, I find! The very sword I speak of is gone! There’s the sheath hanging empty! What can it mean? Do you know anything of this, Mr Cumbermede?’
‘I do, Mr Brotherton. The sword to which that sheath belongs is mine. I have it.’
‘Yours!’ he shouted; then restraining himself, added in a tone of utter contempt—‘This is rather too much. Pray, sir, on what grounds do you lay claim to the smallest atom of property within these walls? My father ought to have known what he was about when he let you have the run of the house! And the old books, too! By heaven, it’s too much! I always thought—’
‘It matters little to me what you think, Mr Brotherton—so little that I do not care to take any notice of your insolence—’
‘Insolence!’ he roared, striding towards me, as if he would have knocked me down.
I was not his match in strength, for he was at least two inches taller than I, and of a coarse-built, powerful frame. I caught a light rapier from the wall, and stood on my defence.
‘Coward!’ he cried.
‘There are more where this came from,’ I answered, pointing to the wall.