My Lord Sayle, being in a very black and evil humour, paid scant heed to the shy and somewhat perfunctory greeting accorded him by the spectators, but strode into the inn without deigning a glance right or left.
Forth hasted the bowing landlord to usher his distinguished guest to the best chamber; and my lord, scowling and mumchance, was about to mount the wide stairway when a young gentleman, descending in somewhat of a hurry, had the misfortune to jostle my Lord Sayle’s wounded arm, and was murmuring an apology when my lord interrupted him with a roar that, almost immediately, made them the centre of a curious, gaping crowd, the which served but to inflame my lord the more, and he raged until the place echoed of him.
“Damn ye, sir,” he ended, “if ye were a man instead of a whey-faced lad I’d give myself the joy of killing ye at the earliest moment!”
“Sir,” retorted the unfortunate young gentleman, becoming paler still, “I venture to regard myself as a man, none the less——”
“Ha, do ye, sir—do ye, indeed?” sneered my lord. “Tell him who I am, somebody!” This information being eagerly accorded, the young gentleman appeared to quail, and was about to speak when down the stair sped a young and beautiful woman.
“Jasper—O Jasper!” she cried; then, facing the company wide-eyed and pallid with terror, “Gentlemen,” she pleaded, “my Jasper meant no offence—none, indeed——”
“Then let him make suitable apology!” quoth my lord grimly.
“You hear, Jasper—you hear?”
“My lord,” said the pale young gentleman, his lips painfully a-tremble, “I’ll see you damned first!”
At this the lady screamed, the company murmured and my lord scowled.