"
"Well, of all the beastly rot I ever heard, this is about the worst!
What do you mean by all this infernal nonsense? Insult you! What would
I insult you for? Why, man alive, you're as mad as a March hare! If I
thought you were a gentleman, I'd--by Jove, I will, too! See here, you
fellow: I'll fight you for it--pistols, or any thing. Come, now. I'll
drop all considerations of rank. I'll treat you as if you were a real
count, and not a sham one. Come, now. What do you say? Shall we have
it out? Pistols--in the woods there. You've got all your infernal crew
around you, you know. Well? What? You won't? By Jove!"
Girasole's gesture showed that he declined the proposition.
"Inglis milor," said he, with a venomous glitter in his eyes, "I sall
haf youair life--wis de pistol, but not in de duello. I sall blow your
brain out myself."
"Blow and be hanged, then!" said Hawbury.
And with these words he fell back on his straw, and took no further
notice of the Italian.
[Illustration: "INGLIS MILOR, I SALL HAF YOUAIR LIFE."]
CHAPTER XXVIII.
TORN ASUNDER.
When Dacres made his attempt upon the house he was not so unobserved
as he supposed himself to be. Minnie and Mrs. Willoughby happened at
that time to be sitting on the floor by the window, one on each side,
and they were looking out. They had chosen the seat as affording some
prospect of the outer world. There was in Mrs. Willoughby a certain
instinctive feeling that if any rescue came, it would come from the
land side; and, therefore, though the hope was faint indeed, it
nevertheless was sufficiently well defined to inspire her with an
uneasy and incessant vigilance.
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