“Oh,” said the Doctor sarcastically. “But he has not been giving the nigger fits.”
“No, sir; next day he changed his mind, and said he’d let Severn have it first.”
“Have it first?” said the Doctor slowly. “Your language is not very correct, Burney. But go on.”
“Yes, sir. He sent word round this morning to all the boys except those two that we were to meet down here by the elms; and when we did come, just as he thought, Severn and Singh fancied there was some new game on, and came to see. Then, sir, Slegge began at Severn, insulting him, sir—yes, that he did. I’m not going to say everything he called him; but he told him to stand up like a man and take his punishment.”
“Yes; and what did Severn say?”
“He said, sir, he was not going to degrade himself by fighting like a street blackguard; and then Slegge jeered and mocked at him and set us all at him to call him coward and cur; and he ended, sir, by walking straight up to him, and he asked him three times if he’d fight, and Severn, sir, said he wouldn’t, and then Slegge gave him a coward’s blow—one in the nose, sir, and made it bleed.”
“Ah!” said the Doctor. “And what did Severn do?”
“Took out his pocket-handkerchief, sir, and wiped it.”
“Exactly,” said the Doctor, with grim seriousness, “and a very correct thing too; that is,” he continued hastily, as if he had some slight idea of the suggestiveness of his remark, “I mean, that Severn behaved very well in refusing to fight. But he turned upon Slegge, of course, after such an incitement as that.”
“No, sir, he didn’t; he only stood there looking very red and with his lips quivering, and looking quite wild and reproachful at Singh.”