“Yes, so am I. Rockley’s deuced haughty, and bullying, and overbearing, particularly lately—things seem to have gone wrong with him—but he’s not a bad fellow.”
“As men go,” said the Colonel with a sneer.
“Exactly—as men go,” replied Sir Harry, whose brains were not very analytical as regarded double entendre.
Just then Richard Linnell reached the door, encountered Cora Dean, and was finally beckoned into Colonel Mellersh’s room.
“My dear Linnell,” said the Colonel gravely, as the others exchanged distant bows, “Sir Harry Payne has called on behalf of Major Rockley—as his friend.”
He watched Linnell’s face intently, but there was only a slight contraction of the brows.
“Bravo!” said the Colonel to himself. “He’s staunch.”
“Mellersh,” said Linnell gravely, “I have no friend to whom I can appeal but you in a case like this.”
“I would far rather leave it,” said Colonel Mellersh slowly; “but perhaps if you leave the affair in my hands, Sir Harry Payne and I may be able to arrange for a peaceful issue. Major Rockley may be ready to withdraw or apologise.”
“S’death, sir!” cried Sir Harry; “apologise for being horsewhipped!”