‘Singulatim!—one at a time, Mr. Travers,’ he cried. ‘Ne Hercules contra duos. It shall never be said that any man, however unworthy of fair treatment, fought against odds in the presence of a descendant of Adam de Salzburg. Stand aside, therefore, sir—and you, Father Verselyn—and leave him to me, or I must relinquish the right of combat, which I have in some measure acquired, as being the first to claim it, to you.’
‘Let the young man swear to keep silence touching all he has seen and heard, or he shall not quit this room alive,’ rejoined Travers.
‘Trust him not—trust him not!’ cried Father Verselyn: ‘his oath will not bind him. Fall upon him altogether and slay him! That is the only way to ensure his silence and our safety. I will absolve you of his blood. The imminence of the danger justifies the deed.’
‘Proh pudor!’ cried Sir Norfolk sternly. ‘That would be trucidation dedecorous and ignave; neither can I stand by and see it done.’
‘Nor I,’ cried Sir Bulkeley, who had by this time recovered from the embarrassment occasioned by the accident. ‘I disapprove of Father Verselyn’s counsel entirely. Let us hear what the young man has to say. I will question him.’
‘Haudquàquam, Sir Bulkeley,’ replied the other gravely, ‘I gave you precedence on a recent occasion, but I cannot do so on the present. I claim this young man as my own—to interrogate, to fight, and, perchance, to slay him.’
‘Fight him as much as you please, Sir Norfolk, and slay him if you think proper—or can,’ rejoined Sir Bulkeley angrily; ‘but you shall not prevent my speaking to him.’
‘Sir Bulkeley Price,’ returned Sir Norfolk, raising his crane neck to its utmost height, ‘I pray you not to interfere between me and Mr. Crew, otherwise——’
‘Well, Sir Norfolk, and what then?’ cried the other, his hot Welsh blood mounting to his cheeks, and empurpling them more deeply than usual. ‘What then, Sir Norfolk?’
‘I shall be compelled to make you render me reason for it,’ replied the other sternly.