Page:Cerise, a tale of the last century (IA cerisetaleoflast00whytrich).pdf/456

 violence, keeping very near the door, corporeally, indeed, and entrenching himself morally, as it were, in the dignity of his superior position, but at these allusions to his personal appearance he lost all self-control. His face grew livid, his very nose turned pale, his eyes blazed, and his hand stole to the short cutlass or hanger he carried at his side. Something in Slap-Jack's face, whose glance followed the movement of his fingers, checked any resort to this weapon, and even in his fury, the captain had the presence of mind to place himself outside the half-door of the bar; but when there he caught hold of it with both hands, for he was trembling all over, and burst forth—

"You think the sun is on your side of the hedge, my fine fellow, I dare say, but you'll know better before a week's out. Ay, you may laugh, but you'll laugh the other side of your mouth when the right end is uppermost, as uppermost it will be, and I take you out on the terrace with a handkerchief over your eyes, and a file of honest fellows, with carbines loaded, who are in my pay even now. Ay, you'll sing small then, I think, for all your blare and bluster to-day. You'll sing small, d'ye hear? on the wet grass under the windows at Hamilton Hill, and your master'll sing small with his feet tied under his horse's belly, riding down the north road and on his way to Tyburn, under a warrant from King Ja Well, a warrant from the king; and that Frenchified jade, your missus'll sing small"

But here the captain sprang to the door, at which his mare was standing ready, leaped to the saddle, and rode off at a gallop, cursing his tongue the while, which, in his exasperation, he had suffered to get so entirely the better of his discretion.

It was high time; Slap-Jack, infuriated at the allusion to his lady, had broken from the gentle grasp of Alice, and in another moment would have been upon him. He even followed the mare for a few paces and shook his fist at the retreating figure fleeting away over the moor like the wind; then he returned to his sweetheart, and drowned his wrath in a flagon of sound ale drawn by her sympathising hands.

He soon ceased to think of his opponent's threats, for when the excitement of action was over, the seaman bore