ttingly, "will you not essay your
rover's prowess upon me?"

"You?" quoth Sir Oliver, and looked him over with good-humoured
contempt. "I'm no butcher of fledgelings, my lad. Besides, you are your
sister's brother, and 'tis no aim of mine to increase the obstacles
already in my path." Then his tone changed. He leaned across the table.
"Come, now, Peter. What is at the root of all this matter? Can we not
compose such differences as you conceive exist? Out with them. 'Tis
no matter for Sir John. He's a curmudgeon who signifies not a finger's
snap. But you, 'tis different. You are her brother. Out with your
plaints, then. Let us be frank and friendly."

"Friendly?" The other sneered again. "Our fathers set us an example in
that."

"Does it matter what our fathers did? More shame to them if, being
neighbours, they could not be friends. Shall we follow so deplorable an
example?"

"You'll not impute that the fault lay with my father," cried the other,
with a show of ready anger.

"I impute nothing, lad. I cry shame upon them both."

"'Swounds!" swore Master Peter. "Do you malign the dead?"

"If I do, I malign them both. But I do not. I no more than condemn a
fault that both must acknowledge could they return to life."

"Then, Sir, confine your condemnings to your own father with whom no man
of honour could have lived at peace...."

"Softly, softly, good Sir...."

"There's no call to go softly. Ralph Tressilian was a dishonour, a
scandal to the countryside. Not a hamlet between here and Truro, or
between here and Helston, but swarms with big Tressilian noses like your
own, in memory of your debauched parent."

Sir Oliver's eyes grew narrower: he smiled. "I wonder how you came by
your own nose?" he wondered.

Master Godolphin got to his feet in a passion, and his chair crashed
over behind him. "Sir," he blazed, "you insult my mother's memory!"

Sir Oliver laughed. "I make a little free with it, perhaps, in return
for your pleasantries on the score of my father."

Master Godolphin pondered him in speechless anger, then swayed by his
passion he leaned across the board, raised his long cane and struck Sir
Oliver sharply on the shoulder.

That done, he strode off magnificently towards the door. Half-way
thither he paused.

"I shall expect your friends and the length of your sword," said he.

Sir Oliver laughed again. "I don't think I shall trouble to send them,"
said he.

Master Godolphin wheeled, fully to f