Sir Lupus nodded, winked, and fell to slicing tobacco with a small, gold knife.
"We're all Quakers in these days--eh, George? We can't fight--no, we really can't! It's wrong, George,--oh, very wrong." And he fell a-chuckling, so that his paunch shook like a jelly.
"I think you do not understand me," I said.
He looked up quickly.
"We Ormonds are only waiting to draw sword."
"Draw sword!" he cried. "What d'ye mean?"
"I mean that, once convinced our honor demands it, we cannot choose but draw."
"Don't be an ass!" he shouted. "Have I not told you that there's no honor in this bloody squabble? Lord save the lad, he's mad as Walter Butler!"
"Sir Lupus," I said, angrily, "is a man an ass to defend his own land?"
"He is when it's not necessary! Lie snug; nobody is going to harm you. Lie snug, with both arms around your own land."