“Humphrey! Stop; how dare you!” exclaimed Trevor, angrily.
The young keeper drew back, grinding his teeth; for the others continued to advance, and the rat-trap-mouthed man, finding Juno, the dog, smelling about him, gave the poor brute a kick, which produced a loud yelp.
“Excuse me, Sir Hampton, but—”
“Get off my grounds, sir, this instant!” roared the knight.
Wasp sting again.
“Look here,” said Pratt, “if it’s a question of boundary, any solicitor will look through the deeds, and a surveyor measure, and put it all right in—”
“Who the devil is this little cad?” exclaimed Sir Hampton.
“Cad?” cried Pratt.
“Yes, sir, cad. Oh! I thought I knew you again. Yes; you are one of that gang on the omnibus who insulted me the other day. And—and—” he stammered in his rage, turning to Trevor, “you were another of the party. Get off my grounds, sir—this instant, sir. Darley, Sanders, Kelynack—drive these fellows off!”
The three men advanced, and Sir Hampton took the general’s place in the rear, quivering still with rage and the poison of the wasp. Trevor was now flushed and angry, and Humphrey evidently ripe for any amount of assault or resistance, when Pratt stepped forward and laid his hand upon the arm of the angry knight.