‘I see,’ said the earl, ‘and of course there was then much stainless honour to be satisfied. And how was it that gentlemen of such advanced age resorted to steel instead of fists?’
The boys made no reply: Lucian still stared at the earl; Dickie professed to be busy with his impromptu bandage. Sprats went round to him and tied the knot.
‘I think I understand,’ said the earl. ‘Well, I suppose honour is satisfied?’
He looked quizzingly at Lucian. Lucian returned the gaze with another, dark, sombre, and determined.
‘He is still a liar!’ he said.
‘I’m not a liar!’ exclaimed Dickie, ‘and as sure as eggs are eggs I’ll hit you again, and on the nose this time, if you say I am,’ and he squared up to his foe utterly regardless of the earl’s presence. The earl smiled.
‘Why is he a liar?’ he asked, looking at Lucian.
‘He lies when he says that—that——’ Lucian choked and looked, almost entreatingly, at Haidee. She had stolen up to the earl’s chair and leaned against its high back, taking in every detail of the scene with eager glances. As Lucian’s eyes met hers, she smiled; a dimple showed in the corner of her mouth.
‘I understand,’ said the earl. He twisted himself round and looked at Haidee. ‘I think,’ he said, ‘this is one of those cases in which one may be excused if one appeals to the lady. It would seem, young lady, that Mr. Feversham, while abstaining, like a gentleman, from boasting of it——’
‘Oh, I say, sir!’ burst out Dickie; ‘I—didn’t mean to, you know.’