"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Worthington, changing his attitude to one of fierceness. But he was well aware that whatever tone he took with his seneschal, he never fooled him.
"I mean what I told you yesterday," said Flint, "that you've stirred up the dragon."
Even Mr. Flint did not know how like a knell his words sounded in Isaac
Worthington's ears.
"Nonsense!" he cried, "you're talking nonsense, Flint. We maimed him too thoroughly for that. He hasn't power enough left to carry his own town."
"All right," said the seneschal.
"What do you mean by that?" said his master, with extreme irritation.
"I mean what I said yesterday, that we haven't maimed him at all. He had his own reasons for going into his hole, and he never would have come out again if you hadn't goaded him. Now he's out, and we'll have to step around pretty lively, I can tell you, or he'll maim us."
All of which goes to show that Mr. Flint had some notion of men and affairs. He became, as may be predicted, the head of many material things in later days, and he may sometime reappear in company with other characters in this story.
The sickly feeling in Mr. Worthington's diaphragm had now returned.
"I think you will find you are mistaken, Flint," he said, attempting dignity now. "Very much mistaken."