The old soldier sat forward in his chair. Then, after a moment’s silence, “Curse Royce Severn.”
He rose, and drawing himself to his full height, looked searchingly at Blake from under his straight grey eyebrows.
“What has made you quarrel with Royce Severn?”
“A love affair, sir.”
Maundrell pulled out his tortoise-shell snuff-box and took snuff vigorously.
“So you want to marry Judith Strange. I know how Severn has persecuted her. It is a pity someone has not shot the beast; I have thought of doing it myself. But do you know what you are doing, Blake?”
“I am going to marry Judith Strange.”
“Yes, yes; all very well that. But this man Severn can shoot and fence like the devil himself. He is the coolest and most deadly beast when there is fighting afoot. Who has the choice of weapons?”
“I have, sir; I have chosen cavalry sabres.”
The colonel threw up his right hand with a stiff gesture of delight.