Dog, was it
you? It was your deed, if not your hand--I know you.'
He threw himself on Gashford as he said the words, and hurled him to the
ground. There was a sudden motion in the crowd, and some laid hands upon
him, but his sword was out, and they fell off again.
'My lord--Sir John,'--he cried, 'draw, one of you--you are responsible
for this outrage, and I look to you. Draw, if you are gentlemen.' With
that he struck Sir John upon the breast with the flat of his weapon,
and with a burning face and flashing eyes stood upon his guard; alone,
before them all.
For an instant, for the briefest space of time the mind can readily
conceive, there was a change in Sir John's smooth face, such as no man
ever saw there. The next moment, he stepped forward, and laid one hand
on Mr Haredale's arm, while with the other he endeavoured to appease the
crowd.
'My dear friend, my good Haredale, you are blinded with passion--it's
very natural, extremely natural--but you don't know friends from foes.'
'I know them all, sir, I can distinguish well--' he retorted, almost mad
with rage. 'Sir John, Lord George--do you hear me? Are you cowards?'
'Never mind, sir,' said a man, forcing his way between and pushing him
towards the stairs with friendly violence, 'never mind asking that.
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