He said not a word, but ever continued to gaze away.
“Come,” I sneered, “will you do me the honor to cross swords?”
“Not with a traitor,” was his sudden answer.
“Nor I with a coward,” I exclaimed. I snatched up the broken whip and struck him full in the face with it. The blow raised a red weal from his eye to his chin.
I have seen wild beasts aroused, and raging Indians mad with the lust of murder, yet I never saw such a look as came into the face of that man when I struck him. Verily I shrank back somewhat, and my sword went up on guard. But with a fierce mastery of the passion that must have been tearing at his very heart, Sir George moistened his lips with his tongue, and hoarsely whispered:
“Are you mad? No man ever yet struck me and lived after it. But the sword of a gentleman and a soldier is too good for such as you, traitor that you are. I will not sully my steel with your blood. Think not, though, that you will escape me. Die you shall, but in such manner as no man died before;” and, ere I could stop him he had rushed from the room, and I was alone.
There was half a thought in my mind to follow him, but I did not care to engage with him on the open highway, and I knew I would meet with him again. That he meditated some evil to me I was sure. What it might be I could not say.
Well, I would be off now to see Lucille after my long absence. I stopped with a jolt, as suddenly as does a trooper whose horse balks at a hedge. Lucille!
“Ha!” I cried, gaily. “Nay, Lucille no more, but Lady Keith. What a fool I’ve been to let her see that I loved her. What a fool any man is to love a woman. What fools men are, anyhow, at all times.
“Bah! Lucille! And she took my kisses.