Gavin, a few steps farther on, turned back, his face as pale as his father’s.
“Be guarded in what you say,” he said in a distinct voice.
“But not my heir,” continued Sir Gavin.
“HE DROPPED SIR GAVIN ON TO THE FLOWER-BED FIFTEEN FEET BELOW”
Gavin made one swift and silent step toward him. Close at hand was an open window, and out of it Gavin instantly handed Sir Gavin, holding him carefully suspended, and dropping him considerately upon a flower-bed fifteen feet below.
“I have not hurt him,” he said, turning to the astonished spectators. “I have let him down very softly. You see, I cannot let any one, least of all my father, Sir Gavin Hamilton, say that of me, because it reflects upon my mother. And I dare not wear the sword given me by the Empress Queen, nor even face her Majesty, if I suffer one disrespectful word to be spoken of my mother, Lady Hamilton.”
There was a ripple of applause and laughter. All had occurred so quickly and quietly that only those immediately around them in the vast anteroom knew anything of what had happened. But it spread rapidly. St. Arnaud drew Gavin away, whose face was now deeply flushed, and who was beginning to show agitation.
“I do not know whether this will be my ruin or not with the Empress Queen,” he said in an excited whisper to St. Arnaud; “I only know that some force stronger than I, and better, too, than I, impels me to defend my mother’s good name whenever this man attacks it; and if ruin comes because of it, let it come. Had Sir Gavin been standing on the very steps of the throne, I should have done as I did.”
“You are quite right; you have nothing to fear. Prince Kaunitz saw it all, and you may be sure that the right account will get to the Emperor and Empress Queen. So let us take our places in line as if nothing had occurred,” counselled St. Arnaud.