Sir Marmaduke could no longer preserve silence.
“He is present,” said he, without qualifying his answer by any title, or salutation. “I am Sir Marmaduke Wade.”
“I am glad of it, good sir. I want to speak a word with you. Shall it be private? I perceive you are in company.”
“I can hold no private conversation with strangers,” replied the knight, drawing himself proudly up. “Whatever you have to say, sir, may be spoken aloud.”
“As you wish, Sir Marmaduke,” acquiesced Scarthe, in a tone of mock courtesy. “But if, to my misfortune, you and I have been hitherto strangers to each other, I live in hope that this unpleasant condition of things will soon come to an end; and that henceforth we shall be better acquainted.”
“What mean you, sir? Why are you here?”
“I am here, Sir Marmaduke, to claim the hospitality of your house. By the way, a very handsome park, and apparently a commodious mansion. Room enough for all my people, I should think? It would scarce be courtesy between us, if eating, drinking, and sleeping under the same roof, we should remain strangers to one another?”
“Eating, drinking, and sleeping under the the same roof! You are merry, sir!”
“With the prospect of such pleasant quarters, could you expect me to be otherwise, Sir Marmaduke?”
“After the lesson you have just received,” replied the knight, returning irony for irony, “one might expect to find you in a more serious frame of spirit.”