"Take the fellow to the stables and when he's washed—feed him!"
"Very good, sir!" Saying which, the Sergeant advanced upon the drooping prisoner, set hand to ragged coat-collar, and wheeling him half-left, marched him away.
"Strike me everlasting perishing purple!" exclaimed the Marquis.
"Damnation!" cried Sir Oliver, his whip quivering in his fist, "d'ye mean to say, sir—d'ye mean——" he choked.
"I mean to say, that since the prisoner stole my property I will dispose of him as I think fit——"
"Fit sir—fit—as you think fit!" spluttered Sir Oliver.
"Or as it pleases me, sir."
"You sir—you!" panted Sir Oliver in sudden frenzy, "and who the devil are you that dare run counter to the law—a beggarly half-pay soldier——"
"O demmit, sir!" exclaimed the Marquis, restraining plump ferocity, "try to be a little decent, I beg, just a little—remember you are not in the House now, sir!"
Sir Oliver sulkily permitted himself to be drawn a little aside, then, halting suddenly, wheeled about and pointed at the Major with his whip.