"Hif it's fight you want, Hi'll say we were expectin' you. There's ten of us 'ere, hall armed—"
A derisive voice was heard in answer. "We'll see about that, my buck, pretty—soon—"
"Men! Hi've got a brace of six-shooters 'ere in my 'and. The first of you as comes into the light gets a couple of 'oles drilled into 'is hinside, neat and clean."
Having launched this threat from his inky window to gain a little time, Henry silently withdrew, flung downstairs and broke into the study, his scrape and bow forgotten, to inquire whether either of the gentlemen had, in Gawd's mercy, hanythink that would shoot.
His master, whose well-kept hands were opening and shutting by his side, did not answer.
"No," said Varney, "I am unarmed."
"Heven without a gun, sir," said Henry to Stanhope, and his look was not such as a servant wears to his master, "we could lick a harmy of them chaps."
"We could never do it!" cried Mr. Stanhope shrilly.
The shouting outside, though still a discreet distance back, grew more articulate. Very fearful were their menaces.
"Come out, Stanhope! Your time's come!"