Robert remarked that he had been on foot.
"On foot--eh? on foot!" Jonathan speculated, unable to realize the image
of his son as a foot-man in the hunting-field, or to comprehend the
insolence of a pedestrian who should dare to attack a mounted huntsman.
"You were on foot? The devil you were on foot! Foot? And caught a man
out of his saddle?"
Jonathan gave up the puzzle. He laid out his fore finger decisively,--
"If it's an assault, mind, you stand damages. My land gives and my land
takes my money, and no drunken dog lives on the produce. A row in the
hunting-field's un-English, I call it."
"So it is, sir," said Robert.
"So it be, neighbour," said Mr. Sedgett.
Whereupon Robert took his arm, and holding the scraggy wretch forward,
commanded him to out with what he knew.
"Oh, I don't know no more than what I've told you." Mr. Sedgett twisted
a feeble remonstrance of his bones, that were chiefly his being, at the
gripe; "except that you got hold the horse by the bridle, and wouldn't
let him go, because the young gentleman wouldn't speak as a gentleman,
and--oh! don't squeeze so hard--"
"Out with it!" cried Robert.
"And you said, Steeve Bilton said, you said, 'Where is she?' you said,
and he swore, and you swore, and a lady rode up, and you pulled, and
she sang out, and off went the gentleman, and Steeve said she said, 'For
shame.'"
"And it was the truest word spoken that day!" Robert released him. "You
don't know much, Mr. Sedgett; but it's enough to make me explain the
cause to my father, and, with your leave, I'll do so."
Mr. Sedgett remarked: "By all means, do;" and rather preferred that his
wits should be accused of want of brightness, than that he should miss
a chance of hearing the rich history of the scandal and its origin.
Something stronger than a hint sent him off at a trot, hugging in his
elbows.
"The postman won't do his business quicker than Sedgett 'll tap this
tale upon every door in the parish," said Jonathan.
"I can only say I'm sorry, for your sake;" Robert was expressing his
contrition, when his father caught him up,--
"Who can hurt me?--my sake? Have I got the habits of a sot?--what you'd
call 'a beast!' but I know the ways o' beasts, and if you did too,
you wouldn't bring them in to bear your beastly sins. Who can hurt
me?--You've been quarrelling with this young gentleman about a
woman--did you damage him?"
"If knuckles could do it, I should have brained him, sir," sa
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