“Sally,” said Sir Hugh, “do you tell me that these blundering jackasses set upon you?”
She followed the direction of his pointing finger, and gave a small shriek, and clutched his arm. “Do not let them touch me!”
“Let them touch you?” said Sir Hugh, a martial light in his eye. “They had better try!”
“It was all a mistake, ma’am! No one don’t want to touch you!” said Mr Peabody. “I am sure we never meant no harm! It was the poor light, and us not knowing you.”
“All a matter of Dooty,” said Mr Stubbs, still holding his handkerchief to his nose.
“You hold your tongue!” said Sir Hugh. “Sally, what happened?”
“I scarce know,” replied his sister. “I went out for a breath of air, and before I had gone above a dozen steps I heard someone running behind me, and turning, saw these two men coming for me, and waving their sticks. I tried to escape, but they caught me, and handled me so roughly that I was near to swooning away on the spot. Then, by the mercy of Providence, who should come riding by but Sir Tristram! I screamed to him for help—indeed, I thought I was to be murdered or beaten into insensibility—and he flung himself from his horse and rescued me! He knocked the fat man down, and when the other one made for him with his cudgel threw him sprawling in the road!”
“Tristram did that?” exclaimed Eustacie. “ Voyons, mon cousin, I begin to like you very much indeed!”
Sir Hugh, his wrath giving place momentarily to professional interest, said: “Threw him a cross-buttock, did you?”
“On my hip,” said Shield. “You know the trick.”