"I hope not, Dick."
"You are, though," repeated the Viscount, looking graver than ever.
"Why?"
"Because--well, because you are evidently bent upon dying young."
"How so, Dick?"
"Well, if you ride in the race and don't break your neck, Carnaby
will want a word with you; and if he doesn't shoot you, why then
Chichester certainly will--next time, damn him!"
"Next time?"
"Oh, I know all about your little affair with him--across the table.
Gad, Beverley, what a perfectly reckless fellow you are!"
"But--how do you know of this?"
"From Clemency."
"So you've seen her again, Dick?"
"Yes, of course; that is, I took 'Moonraker' for a gallop yesterday,
and--happened to be that way."
"Ah!" said Barnabas.
"And she told me--everything," said the Viscount, beginning to
stride up and down the room, with his usual placidity quite gone,
"I mean about--about the button you found, it was that devil
Chichester's it seems, and--and--Beverley, give me your hand! She
told me how you confronted the fellow. Ha! I'll swear you had him
shaking in his villain's shoes, duellist as he is."
"But," said Barnabas, as the Viscount caught his hand, "it was not
altogether on Clemency's account, Dick."
"No matter, you frightened the fellow off. Oh, I know--she told me;
I made her! She had to fight with the beast, that's how he lost his
button. I tell you, if ever I get the chance at him, he or I shall
get his quietus. By God, Bev, I'm half-minded to send the brute a
challenge, as it is."
"Because of Clemency, Dick?"
"Well--and why not?"
"The Earl of Bamborough's son fight a duel over the chambermaid of a
hedge tavern!"
The Viscount's handsome face grew suddenly red, and as suddenly pale
again, and his eyes glowed as he fronted Barnabas across the hearth.
"Mr. Beverley," said he very quietly, "how am I to take that?"
"In friendship, Dick, for the truth of it is that--though she is as
brave, as pure, as beautiful as any lady in the land, she is a
chambermaid none the less."
The Viscount turned, and striding to the window stood there, looking
out with bent head.
"Have I offended you?" inquired Barnabas.
"You go--too far, Beverley."
"I would go farther yet for my friend, Viscount, or for our Lady
Cleone."
Now when Barnabas said this, the Viscount's head drooped lower yet,
and he stood silent. Then, all at once, he turned, and coming to the
hearth, the two stood looking at each other.
"Yes, I believe you would, Beverley. But you have a way of jumping
to conclusions that is--devilish disconcerting. As for Chichester,
the world would be well rid of him. And, talking of him, I met
another rascal as I came--I mean that fellow Smivvle; had he been
here?"