Marcus and Serge remained gazing in one another’s eyes, till at last the latter spoke.
“Look here, Master Marcus, I meant it for the best. Aren’t you being a bit hard on me?”
“Look here, Serge,” replied Marcus, “I meant it for the best. Weren’t you a bit hard upon me?”
“I think not, Master Marcus, boy.”
“And that’s what I think, Serge.”
“I couldn’t see my dear old master go away alone into danger.”
“And I couldn’t see my dear old father go away alone into danger.”
“Of course you couldn’t, Master Marcus. I say, my lad, you know what I used to tell you about enemies doing when they come to a check like—what they settled was best.”
“What, made a truce?” said Marcus.
“Yes, my lad. I should like one now, for that bruise you’ve made with your knuckles in my throat’s quite big enough. It’ll be black to-morrow.”