Sir Philip strode up to the fallen Dyceworthy, his face darkening with wrath.
"Let him go, Lorimer," he said sternly. Then, as the reverend gentleman slowly struggled to his feet, moaning with pain, he demanded, "What have you to say for yourself, sir? Be thankful if I do not give you the horse-whipping you deserve, you scoundrel!"
"Let me get at him!" vociferated Güldmar at this juncture, struggling to free himself from the close grasp of the prudent Macfarlane. "I have longed for such a chance! Let me get at him!"
But Lorimer assisted to restrain him from springing forward,--and the old man chafed and swore by his gods in vain.
Mr. Dyceworthy meanwhile meekly raised his eyes, and folded his hands with a sort of pious resignation.
"I have been set upon and cruelly abused," he said mournfully, "and there is no part of me without ache and soreness!" He sighed deeply. "But I am punished rightly for yielding unto carnal temptation, put before me in the form of the maiden who came hither unto me with delusive entrancements--"
He stopped, shrinking back in alarm from the suddenly raised fist of the young baronet.
"You'd better be careful!" remarked Philip coolly, with dangerously flashing eyes; "there are four of us here, remember!"
Mr. Dyceworthy coughed, and resumed an air of outraged dignity.
"Truly, I am aware of it!" he said; "and it surpriseth me not at all that the number of the ungodly outweigheth that of the righteous! Alas! 'why do the heathen rage so furiously together?' Why, indeed! Except that 'in their hearts they imagine a vain thing!' I pardon you, Sir Philip, I freely pardon you! And you also, sir," turning gravely to Duprèz, who received his forgiveness with a cheerful and delighted bow. "You can indeed injure--and you have injured this poor body of mine--but you cannot touch the soul! No, nor can you hinder that freedom of speech"--here his malignant smile was truly diabolical--"which is my glory, and which shall forever be uplifted against all manner of evil-doers, whether they be fair women and witches, or misguided pagans--"
Again he paused, rather astonished at Errington's scornful laugh.
"You low fellow!" said the baronet. "From Yorkshire, are you? Well, I happen to know a good many people in that part of the world--and I have some influence there, too. Now, understand me--I'll have you hounded out of the place! You shall find it too hot to hold you--that I swear! Remember! I'm a man of my word! And if you dare to mention the name of Miss Güldmar disrespectfully, I'll thrash you within an inch of your life!"