"The man will never sleep," said Ermsby, in a low tone, to Jerningham. "He will outwalk your medicine. You are not like to have him in a worse state than he is in now. Let me put an end to him while he is thus."
"But Meg—" objected Jerningham.
"If I give him a thrust in my own quarrel, she cannot blame you. Come; my weapons are itching."
"Why do you wish to slay him?"
"For the sport of it, i' faith." Sir Clement's face lighted up with cruelty. "'Tis your only sure way. He'll walk out of this cloud presently."
"As you will," said Jerningham, abruptly, after a moment's thought. "But 'tis between you and him."
Sir Clement, without moving, said aloud to the captain:
"I remember our meeting. You boasted you could be my teacher with the rapier. I knew not then you were Ravenshaw, the roaring captain; else I had not put off the lesson."
"Lesson—put off lesson—what lesson?" murmured the captain, dreamily, swaying and plunging as he strode.