“I don’t see the drift of a word of it,” said Witham. “Hadn’t you better come back when you’ve worked the vapours off to-morrow?”
“Come out!” said the other man grimly. “There’s scarcely room in here. Well then, have it your own way, and the devil take care of you!”
“I think there’s enough,” said Witham, and as the other swung forward, closed with him.
He felt sick and dizzy for a moment, for he had laid himself open and the first blow got home, but he had decided that if the grapple was inevitable, it was best to commence it and end it speedily. A few seconds later there was a crash against the table, and the stranger gasped as he felt the edge of it pressed into his backbone. Then he felt himself borne backwards until he groaned under the strain, and heard a hoarse voice say, “If you attempt to use that foot again, I’ll make the leg useless all your life to you. Come right in here, Tom.”
A man carrying a lantern came in, and stared at the pair as he set it down. “Do you want me to see a fair finish-up?” he said.
“No,” said Witham. “I want you to see this gentleman out with me. Nip his arms behind his back; he can’t hurt you.”
It was done with a little difficulty, and there was a further scuffle in the hall, for the stranger resisted strenuously, but a minute later the trio reeled out of the door just as a buggy pulled up. Then, as the evicted man plunged forward alone, Witham, straightening himself suddenly, saw that Colonel Barrington was looking down on him, and that his niece was seated at his side. He stood still, flushed and breathless, with his jacket hanging rent half-way up about him, and the Colonel’s voice was quietly ironical.
“I had a question or two to ask you, but can wait,” he said. “No doubt I shall find you less engaged another time.”
He flicked the horse, and as the buggy rolled away the other man walked up to Witham.
“While I only wanted to get rid of you before, I feel greatly tempted to give you your wish now,” said the latter.