Verty had been gazing at the sky, and was scarcely conscious of Mr. Jinks' presence;—but the movement made by Cloud aroused him. He looked at the sword wonderingly.
"Stand back!" cried Jinks, "or thou art dead, young man! Turn your horse into that receptacle of animals again, and go not toward the Bower of Nature!"
"Anan?" said the young man, calmly.
"So you pretend not to understand, do you! Vile caitiff! advance one step at your peril—try to go and complete arrangements for a matrimonial engagement at the Bower of Nature, and thou diest!"
Verty was getting angry.
"Mr. Jinks, you'd better get out of the way," he said, calmly.
"Never! stand back! Attempt to push your animal toward me, and I slaughter him. Base caitiff! Know that the rival you have yonder is myself! Know that she loves you not, and is now laughing at you, however much she may have made you believe she loved you! She is a wretch!"
Verty thought Mr. Jinks spoke of Redbud—the dominant idea again—and frowned.
"Yes! a perfidious, unfeeling traitoress," observed Mr. Jinks, grimacing terribly; "and if thou makest a single step toward her, I will spit thee on my sword!"
Verty cocked his rifle, and placing the muzzle thereof on the Jinks' breast, made a silent movement of his head, to the effect, that Mr. Jinks would consult his personal safety by ceasing to obstruct the way.