"Dangerous party to deal with, my lord," remarked the panting Mr. Doutfire jerkily, owing to the convulsions of the Salolja leg, addressing himself impartially to the three men, any one of whom might be Lord Quorn. "I'm afraid we shall have to see him safe to Bunbury and give him a night in the cells, in default of bail."
The prisoner laughed in the very impotence of his rage. "You shall have your absurd Great Bunbury pulled down about your ears if you do not instantly release me," he spluttered through his teeth.
"All right, my lord duke," Doutfire returned, with a wink at the company. "We'll keep in the middle of the street in case the buildings should come down on our hats. Now, when you're ready, sir, we'll make a move as it's getting late. Sorry to have to put the bracelets on a gentleman of your position, but I take the responsibility. In this country even dukes have got to behave themselves, and we don't allow tricks with these dangerous playthings."
He pulled the duke up and set him on his feet, then took up the rapier and revolver and handed them to his subordinate.
"You shall release me at once," hissed the duke through his wolfish teeth, "or it will be the worse for you."
"All right. We'll see about that," replied Mr. Doutfire in the tone he might use to a naughty child. "I understand the prisoner threatened and assaulted you, Mr.——?" he added to Carnaby, producing his note book.
"Yes," affirmed that valiant gentleman. "I'm cut and stabbed all over."
"Tut!" cried the prisoner explosively. "The fellow is a great coward. He cries if you prick him."
"You will," continued Mr. Doutfire, unheeding the interruption, "charge the prisoner, I presume, with feloniously cutting and wounding?"
"That's it," replied Mr. Leo, regaining confidence.