"Sure the fellow means to insult you, Jack," said one of the officers to Falconer.
"Thank you," said I to the officer.
"Why, Bert," said the captain, quickly, "you must be under some delusion. Have you been drinking too much?"
"Not a drop," I replied. "I needn't be drunk, to know a scoundrel. Come, sir, will you soon take offence? How far must I go?"
"By all that's holy, Jack," cried one of his friends, "if you don't knock him down, I shall!"
"Ay, he ought to have his throat slit!" called out another.
"Nay, nay!" said Falconer, stopping with a gesture a general rising from the table. "There is some mistake here. I will talk with the gentleman alone. After you, sir." And, having approached me, he waited with great civility, for me to precede him out of the door. I accepted promptly, being in no mood to waste time in a contest of politeness.
"Now, lad, what in the name of heaven—" he began, in the most gentle, indulgent manner, as we stood alone in the passage.
"For God's sake," I blurted irritably, "be like your countrymen in there: be sneering, resentful, supercilious! Don't be so cursed amiable—don't make it so hard for me to do this!"
"I supercilious! And to thee, lad!" he replied, with a reproachful smile.