“That blow I charge against you both,—the lady as well as you!”
Colden had stepped back some distance after delivering the blow. Something in Harry’s answer seemed to infuriate still further the devil awakened in the Tory’s body, for he cried out:
“The lady as well as me,—yes! And this, too!”
And he advanced on Peyton, to strike a second time.
“Stop! How dare you?”
The cry was Elizabeth’s. It startled Colden so that he loosened his hold of the broken sword before he could deliver the blow. At that instant, she caught his arm in her one hand, the sword-guard in her other. She tore the weapon from his grasp, and faced him with a countenance as furious as his own.
“What do you mean?” he cried.
For answer she struck him in the face with the flat of the sword, as he had struck Peyton. “You sneak!” she said.
He recoiled, and stood staring, a ghastly image of bewilderment and consternation. After a moment he turned livid.
“Ah! I see now!” he gasped. “You love him!”