“And by what right do you come meddling again with my private affairs?” said Richard, offensively.
“The right of every man who sees his neighbour’s life in danger to come and warn him.”
“Then don’t warn me,” said Richard; “I don’t want warning. It’s all rubbish.”
“It is no rubbish that a certain party of the men are holding meetings and threatening to injure you,” said the vicar, rather warmly.
“Bah! they’re always doing that, and it don’t frighten me,” said Richard, coarsely.
“Then you were not going, Richard?” said his mother, eagerly. “You were not thinking of being so mad?”
“Going? no; not I,” said Richard, “though I don’t see anything mad in it.”
Eve gave a sigh of relief, which sounded like a knell to the vicar, who, however, said frankly:
“I am very glad, then, that I have been deceived.”
“And,” said Richard, sneeringly, “next time you hear a cock-and-bull story about me, perhaps you will keep it to yourself, sir, and leave me to go my ways in peace.”