“Hang the cad, there couldn’t be a better chance,” he said to himself; and, adopting the attitude popular with cavalry officers not largely addicted to brains, he straddled as if on horseback, and setting his feet down as though he expected each heel to make the rowel of a spur to ring, he walked straight up to Alleyne, smoking furiously, and puffed a cloud almost into his face.
“Look here, Mr—Mr—er—Alleyne,” he said, loudly, “I wanted to talk to you, and present time seems as suitable as any other time.”
Alleyne had recovered himself, and bowed coldly.
“I was not aware that Captain Rolph had any communication to make to me,” he said quietly.
“S’pose not,” replied Rolph, offensively; “people of your class never do.—Hang the cad! He is spying so as to get a pull on me,” he muttered to himself.
“I’m just in the humour, and for two pins I’d give him as good a thrashing as I really could.”
“Will you proceed,” said Alleyne, in whose pale cheeks a couple of spots were coming, for it was impossible not to read the meaning of the other’s words and tone.
“When I please,” said Rolph, in the tone of voice he would have adopted towards some groom, or to one of the privates of his troop.
Alleyne bowed his head and stood waiting, for he said to himself—“I am in the wrong—I am bitterly to blame. Whatever he says, I will bear without a word.”
A deep silence followed, for, though Rolph pleased to speak, he could not quite make up his mind what to say. He did not wish to blurt out anything, he told himself, that should compromise his dignity, nor yet to let Alleyne off too easily. Hence, being unprepared, he was puzzled.