"No," he said; "but I am."
It was in his heart to plead for something to hearten him for the fray, if it were only a hand-shake; but he forebore. She should not be able to say again that he claimed a price for serving her.
He strode out radiantly to the battle. He was perfectly sober, and had a white heat of passion to inspire him. Amurrica, though usually a formidable adversary, had eaten heavily, and drunk too much. When they had taken away his revolver, he was an easy prey. Bert's object was to put him out of the running for the next few days, but not to injure him seriously. He went into the thing scientifically, and it was a sorry-looking object which was finally carried off the field by its backers; while the two great Lutwyche boys, who had been eager spectators of the fray, ran back home as fast as they could, to tell their mother what had chanced.
The victor was pleased, but gory. It was imperative that he should go to his own place and change. Amurrica was settled for the present, he had warned Millie, and felt that he might now give himself an hour or two off duty without anxiety. All the way home he was wondering to himself how Amurrica had known that Mayne was going away.
Anna, who had not been bidden to the revels at Lutwyche's, was in an evil temper, and said she had provided no supper. Hadn't he had his bellyful down there, where all the swine were swilling? Bert turned upon her, with the flame in his eye, the gall on his tongue, which everybody feared. She would wish, a week hence, he told her, when she found herself bundled out to get her own living, that she had kept a civil tongue in her head. Then he went and washed himself elaborately clean, and put on a clean shirt—an English superstition which he had inherited from his mother, with other vain observances which filled Anna with contempt. He had neither eaten nor drunk since morning, and he knew that, if he was to mount guard at Lutwyche's till late at night, he must fortify himself. As he sat at table, the door open, devouring cold meat and bread, he saw something move behind the fence. He watched steadfastly until the thing rose more fully into view, revealed itself as the tow head and flushed face of one of the small Lutwyches, beckoned him furtively, and disappeared again.
Bert got up and went out. He looked down over the fence, and said "Hullo!" His heart meanwhile misgave him.
The child, grinning up at him, said she had a message from sister Millie, and she was to give it to him his very own self. The message was: "Would he meet Millie at the sign-post corner at nine o'clock that evening?" She was to take back word.
"What's she want to do there?" asked Bert suspiciously.
"She wouldn't say; but I expect she wants to run away. Mother she's promised her a hiding."
"Then you'll go to your mother with the tale."