But at that very moment, Mr. Warboys was most strenuously resisting all efforts put forward to make him do this very thing. “No, dash it, Martin!” he said. “Don’t mind acting for you — not but what I think you’re making a cake of yourself, mind! — but I’m damned if I’ll act for a fellow I don’t know!”
“You do know him! He was at our ball!”
“What’s that to say to anything? Seen him at Whissenhurst a couple of times too, but that don’t mean I know him!”
“What does it signify? The circumstances are peculiar, and — ”
“Yes, and that’s another thing!” said Mr. Warboys. “No wish to offend you, dear old boy — and it ain’t a bit of use trying to call me out if you are offended! — but the circumstances are too dashed peculiar! Mind, now, I’m not sure, because I haven’t been out myself, but I don’t think this is at all the thing. I’ll ask my father: knows everything, my father!”
“You will not! Do you think I want the whole world to know of this?”
“Precious soon will know of it,” commented the sapient Mr. Warboys. “All over the countryside within twenty-four hours! A nice cry-out there will be! You take a damper, dear boy! much the best thing to do!”
“I tell you the fellow knocked me down, and has accepted my challenge!”
“You told me it wasn’t till you gave him a facer that he did accept your challenge. Good sort of a man, Ulverston,” said Mr. Warboys thoughtfully. “Withdraw the challenge. Nothing else to be done.”
“No?” said Martin, through his shut teeth. “I’ll show you what else is to be done!”