“I say, what did you do?” said the keeper again, in a voice full of suppressed passion.
“That!” said Rolph, slowly raising his right hand to unwind from it Judith’s soft white handkerchief, now all stained with blood, and display his knuckles denuded of skin.
“Hah!” ejaculated the keeper, as his eyes flashed. “God bless you for that, sir. You knocked him down?”
“Of course.”
“Yes—yes?”
“And he jumped up and drew his knife and struck at me.”
“But he didn’t hit you, sir; he didn’t hit you?” cried the keeper, forgetting everything in his excitement as he clutched the young man’s arm.
“No; I was too quick for him; and then he ran off into the wood.”
“Damn him!” roared the keeper. “If I had only been there this would have caught him,” he cried, patting the stock of his gun. “I’d have set the dogs on him after I’d given him a couple of charges of shot; I would, sir, so help me God.”
The veins were standing out all over the keeper’s brow, as he ground his teeth and shook his great heavy fist.