Part 40 (1/2)
”And there's another point, my lord,” resumed Donal: ”you say I have nothing to do now with the affair: if not for my friend's sake, I have for my own.”
”What do you mean?”
”That I am in the house a paid servant, and must not allow anything mischievous to go on in it without acquainting my master.”
”You acknowledge, Mr. Grant, that you are neither more nor less than a paid servant, but you mistake your duty as such: I shall be happy to explain it to you.--You have nothing whatever to do with what goes on in the house; you have but to mind your work. I told you before, you are my brother's tutor, not mine! To interfere with what I do, is nothing less than a piece of d.a.m.ned impertinence!”
”That impertinence, however, I intend to be guilty of the moment I can get audience of your father.”
”You will not, if I give you such explanation as satisfies you I have done the girl no harm, and mean honestly by her!” said Forgue in a confident, yet somewhat conciliatory tone.
”In any case,” returned Donal, ”you having once promised, and then broken your promise, I shall without fail tell your father all I know.”
”And ruin her, and perhaps me too, for life?”
”The truth will ruin only those that ought to be ruined!” said Donal.
Forgue sprang upon him, and struck him a heavy blow between the eyes.
He had been having lessons in boxing while in Edinburgh, and had confidence in himself. It was a well-planted blow, and Donal unprepared for it. He staggered against the wall, and for a moment could neither see nor think: all he knew was that there was something or other he had to attend to. His lords.h.i.+p, excusing himself perhaps on the ground of necessity, there being a girl in the case, would have struck him again; but Andrew threw himself between, and received the blow for him.
As Donal came to himself, he heard a groan from the ground, and looking, saw Andrew at his feet, and understood.
”Dear old man!” he said; ”he dared to strike you!”
”He didna mean 't,” returned Andrew feebly. ”Are ye winnin' ower 't, sir? He gae ye a terrible ane! Ye micht hae h'ard it across the street!”
”I shall be all right in a minute!” answered Donal, wiping the blood out of his eyes. ”I've a good hard head, thank G.o.d!--But what has become of them?”
”Ye didna think he wud be waitin' to see 's come to oorsel's!” said the cobbler.
With Donal's help, and great difficulty, he rose, and they stood looking at each other through the starlight, bewildered and uncertain.
The cobbler was the first to recover his wits.
”It's o' no mainner of use,” he said, ”to rouse the castel wi' hue an'
cry! What hae we to say but 'at we faund the twa i' the gairden thegither! It wud but raise a clash--the which, fable or fac', wud do naething for naebody! His lords.h.i.+p maun be loot ken, as ye say; but wull his lords.h.i.+p believe ye, sir? I'm some i' the min' the yoong man 's awa' til's faither a'ready, to prejudeese him again' onything ye may say.”
”That makes it the more necessary,” said Donal, ”that I should go at once to his lords.h.i.+p. He will fall out upon me for not having told him at once; but I must not mind that: if I were not to tell him now, he would have a good case against me.”
They were already walking towards the house, the old man giving a groan now and then. He could not go in, he said; he would walk gently on, and Donal would overtake him.
It was an hour and a half before Andrew got home, and Donal had not overtaken him.
CHAPTER x.x.xV.
THE EARL'S BEDCHAMBER.
Having washed the blood from his face, Donal sought Simmons.