Haldanes face had gone black as a thunder-cloud. Placing his hand on the other’s shoulder, and looking firmly into his face, he said—
“Listen to me, Baptisto.”
“I am listening, senor.”
“If I thought you would come back to life to tell lies about your mistress, I would have let you lie the other day and rot like a dead dog, rather than have recovered you at all. You hear? Take care! I know you do not love your mistress, but if you dare to whisper one word against her, I will drive you for ever from my door.”
Baptisto bowed his head respectfully before the storm, but retained his usual composure.
“Senor, may I speak?”
“Yes; but again, take care!”
“You should not blame me if I am jealous for your honour!”
Haldane started, and uttered an expletive.
“My honour, you dog? What do you mean?”