“A hit! a hit! Strike up, Atty!” and the swords are struck up instantly.
Cary, nettled by the smart, tries to close with his foe, but the seconds cross their swords before him.
“It is enough, gentlemen. Don Guzman’s honor is satisfied!”
“But not my revenge, señor,” says the Spaniard, with a frown. “This duel is à l’outrance, on my part; and, I believe, on Mr. Cary’s also.”
“By heaven, it is!” says Will, trying to push past. “Let me go, Arthur St. Leger; one of us must down. Let me go, I say!”
“If you stir, Mr. Cary, you have to do with Richard Grenville!” thunders the lion voice. “I am angry enough with you for having brought on this duel at all. Don’t provoke me still further, young hot-head!”
Cary stops sulkily.
“You do not know all, Sir Richard, or you would not speak in this way.”
“I do, sir, all; and I shall have the honor of talking it over with Don Guzman myself.”
“Hey!” said the Spaniard. “You came here as my second, Sir Richard, as I understood, but not as my counsellor.”
“Arthur, take your man away! Cary! obey me as you would your father, sir! Can you not trust Richard Grenville?”
“Come away, for God’s sake!” says poor Arthur, dragging Cary’s sword from him; “Sir Richard must know best!”
So Cary is led off sulking, and Sir Richard turns to the Spaniard,
“And now, Don Guzman, allow me, though much against my will, to speak to you as a friend to a friend. You will pardon me if I say that I cannot but have seen last night’s devotion to—”
“You will be pleased, señor, not to mention the name of any lady to whom I may have shown devotion. I am not accustomed to have my little affairs talked over by any unbidden counsellors.”
“Well, señor, if you take offence, you take that which is not given. Only I warn you, with all apologies for any seeming forwardness, that the quest on which you seem to be is one on which you will not be allowed to proceed.”
“And who will stop me?” asked the Spaniard, with a fierce oath.
“You are not aware, illustrious señor,” said Sir Richard, parrying the question, “that our English laity look upon mixed marriages with full as much dislike as your own ecclesiastics.”
“Marriage, sir? Who gave you leave to mention that word to me?”
Sir Richard’s brow darkened; the Spaniard, in his insane pride, had forced upon the good knight a suspicion which was not really just.
“Is it possible, then, Señor Don Guzman, that I am to have the shame of mentioning a baser word?”
“Mention what you will, sir. All words are the same to me; for, just or unjust, I shall answer them alike only by my sword.”