Fermor almost ground his teeth with rage.
But he had a curious shyness, which in presence
of a crowd palsied his wits, if not his tongue.
He could have readily found such rough stock
words as "you are a ruffian, a coward," and the
like. But, to do him justice, he shrank from
such Billingsgate. The "men" looked on,
wondering. If faces could stab, wound, beat,
scourge, then was Romaine tied to a stake, and
gashed and scourged thoroughly. But, as it
he saw that he had the victory.

"What is it all about?" said the "men."

""We have been having an argument, Fermor
and I," he said, "and I believe I have the best of
it. Another good stroke."

At last the games ended, the night ended, the
"men" dropped away. "Now to get our great-
coat," said Romaine. "I have made a very good
night's work of it, beaten everybody all round,"
and he looked at Fermor. He lit a cigar at the
door. Fermor followed him close.

"Well," said an old member, "well, Fermor,
you are about the most even-tempered man I
ever came across. Hang me! but I would have
slapped him in the face—I would." Fermor
flew out after Romaine.

"You don't mean to tell me you are coming
my way?" said Mr. Romaine. "Well, well."

"You shan't escape me now," said Fermor,
walking hurriedly beside him. "You have no
audience here. Once for all, you must account
to me for your behaviour. I have you now."

"Beginning again?" said Romaine, buttoning
up his coat, and puffing his cigar. "Hints,
lessons, all thrown away, I see."

"It is unbearable," said Fermor, walking
furiously. " You have no spirit. Any other man
would have——You are a——"

"Hush, hush, nonsense," said Romaine. "I
don't think you know the full force of what
you are saying. As you say, there is no audience
here, and you are getting courage. My good
friend, it is well you did not bring out that ugly
word that was on your lips. I tell you calmly
and candidly, if you had——"

"Well?" said Fermor, trying a sneer.

"Well? I should have waited until we came
to this lamp-post, seized you so, and, I fear,
broken your spine." (In a second he had Fermor
pinioned by both arms, with his spine to the
"shoulder" of the lamp-post.) "If you doubt
me, just as an experiment try and say it. Come!"

Under the lamplight came from Romaine's
eyes such a sharp, wicked flash, and there was
such an Indian savageness about his lips, that
Fermor saw in a second that he was in earnest.

Luckless Fermor! it was the deepest humiliation.
But there was a ferocity in the other's
face that could not be trifled with. Already he
saw his knee half bent, ready to be raised to lay
upon his chest. As it was, he could hardly gasp.
There might have been a temptation in the other's
mind to use this tempting opportunity to rid
himself of one who was in his way.

Writhing, groaning, frantic with helpless  fury,
he thought he would have gone mad. He could
not speak for mortification. The eyes of Romaine
were a few inches from his own eyes, looking at
him with malicious eagerness. The cigar of
Romaine was close to his cheek. Some one
passing by, stopped a moment and laughed. But
some one else stopped suddenly under the lamp,
started, and spoke:

"Fermor!" he said, "here, and in this way!
What is this about?"

"Ah, Hanbury!" he said. "I am so glad.
Come and look. Look at our friend. He has
been a little pettish to-night—given me all
manner of trouble."

This was, indeed, humiliation. Hanbury felt
for him.

"Come, come," he said, "this is the public
street. It is very boyish, I must say. Come,
let him go. Do, now."

"It is the public street, my friend," said the
other, gaily. "That is just the reason."

"You must. Here, I want to speak to you,
Romaine. Look—suppose some of the club men
were to pass? Nonsense. You have had enough
amusement."

He was very strong—stronger than Romaine
—and gently and good humouredly drew him off.

He let Fermor go. "It won't do after all,
Fermor! You will have to pay a fellow as they
do in Ireland, and get him to do the job. There's
your hat. Don't try that again, I would advise
you. It was too tempting. You have no idea
what a little pressure of the knee will stave in
the chest in that position. Now don't persist in
seeing me home. In fact, my good Fermor, as a
general rule, don't think of interfering with me."

Fermor was now free. All his fury burst out.
He drew back, and was going to fly at Romaine,
but the latter threw his cigar on the ground,
and, raising his arm, said, in a tone there was no
mistaking, "Take care, take care! Hanbury, I
give you notice, I shall not put up with any
tricks of this sort. Take care, now. I warn
you."

Hanbury stepped between them. He saved
Fermor. "Go home," he said, "Fermor; it is all
a joke."

Romaine walked away very fast, and even singing,
and left the unhappy Fermor glowering,
almost moaning, with rage. But he was half
tamed. "This man has a spell over me," he said,
passionately. The moment Romaine was gone he
felt a frantic impulse to rush after him, and
again "bring him to account." He went home
that night degraded to himself, and the men at
the club were very jocular over the "devilish
diverting way" that Romaine had handled him.

The spectacle had, however, troubled Young
Brett, that excellent Samaritan, not a little. He
understood what was in Fermor's mind, and he
began to pity him. He was his old friend, and
his old friend he had admired so. "He was no
match," he thought, "for that rude rough man."
So this honest boy was with Miss Manuel next
day, telling her the whole. "I am sorry for him,