“Sirr, I don’t mind of you.”
“Well, I’ll refresh your memory. Do you remember the hall in Newmilns Street and the meeting there? You had a fight with a man outside, and got knocked down.”
He made no answer, but his colour deepened.
“And a fortnight later in a public-house in Muirtown you saw the same man, and gave him the chase of his life.”
I could see his mouth set, for visions of the penalties laid down by the King’s Regulations for striking an officer must have crossed his mind. But he never budged.
“Look me in the face, man,” I said. “Do you remember me now?”
He did as he was bid.
“Sirr, I mind of you.”
“Have you nothing more to say?”
He cleared his throat. “Sirr, I did not ken I was hittin’ an officer.”