"Do you mane my mother?" said Andy, quickly, and he, too, looked angry and threatening.
"Yes, I do. What are you going to do about it?" demanded Godfrey.
"You'd better take it back," said Andy, his good-humored face now dark with passion.
"Do you think I am afraid of such a beggar as you?" sneered Godfrey. "You appear to forget that you are speaking to a gentleman."
"Shure, I didn't know it," returned Andy, hotly. "You're no gentleman if you insult my mother, and if you'll come out here for a minute I'll give you a bating."
"John," said Godfrey, angrily, "will you drive that beggar away?"
Now, John's sympathies were rather with Andy than with his young master. He had no great admiration for Godfrey, having witnessed during the year he had been in his father's employ too much of the boy's arrogance and selfishness to feel much attachment for him. Had he taken any part in the present quarrel, he would have preferred espousing the cause of the Irish boy; but that would not have been polite, and he therefore determined to preserve his neutrality.
"That ain't my business, Master Godfrey," he said. "You must fight your own battles."
"Go away from here," said Godfrey, imperiously advancing toward that part of the fence against which Andy Burke was leaning.
"Will you take back what you said agin' my mother?"