Whether I was sobered or not, I know not. I can only say that of a sudden I was myself, and strangely quiet. I saw the dear lady, brave, beautiful, and with her curls falling about her neck, as she shrank back from the man’s touch.
“Come, Hugh,” she said.
“Yes, mother,” I said; “but first—” and I struck Captain Wynne full in the face, so that, unprepared as he was, he fell over a table and on to the floor.
Every one started up. There was instant silence.
In a moment he was on his feet, and, like myself, another man. Turning, he said, with amazing coolness, wiping the blood away, for I was strong, and had hit hard, “Madam, I beg your pardon; we have been behaving like beasts, and I am fitly punished. As to you, Mr. Wynne, you are a boy, and have undertaken to rough it with men. This shall go no further.”
“It shall go where I please,” I cried.
“No, no; Hugh, Hugh!” said my mother.
“‘We will talk it over to-morrow,” said the captain; and then, turning, “I mean, gentlemen, that this shall stop here. If any man thinks I am wrong, let him say so. I shall know how to settle accounts with him.”
“No, no,” said the colonel; “you are right, and if any officer thinks otherwise, I too am at his service.” In the silence which came after he added, “Permit me, madam;” and offering his arm to my mother, we following, they went downstairs, Jack and I after them, and so into the street and the reproachful calm of the starlit April night.