"Thistle, if you like," said Macey, good-humouredly. "Donkey enjoys his
thistle as much as a horse does his corn, or you did chewing sugar-cane
among your father's niggers."

It was an unlucky speech, and like a spark to gunpowder.

Distin sprang up and made for Macey, with his fists doubled, but Vane
interposed.

"No," he said; "no fighting in a boat, please. Gilmore and I don't want
a ducking, if you do."

There was another change in the Creole on the instant. The fierce angry
look gave place to a sneering smile, and he spoke in a husky whisper.

"Oh, I see," he said, gazing at Vane the while, with half-shut eyes.
"You prompted him to say that."

Vane did not condescend to answer, but Macey cried promptly,--

"That he didn't. Made it all up out of my own head."

"A miserable insult," muttered Distin.

"But he had nothing to do with it, Distie," said Macey; "all my own; and
if you wish for satisfaction--swords or pistols at six sharp, with
coffee, I'm your man."

Distin took no heed of him, but stood watching Vane, his dark half-shut
eyes flashing as they gazed into the lad's calm wide-open grey orbs.

"I say," continued Macey, "if you wish for the satisfaction of a
gentleman--"

"Satisfaction--gentleman!" raged out Distin, as he turned suddenly upon
Macey. "Silence, buffoon!"

"The buffoon is silent," said Macey, sinking calmly down into his place;
"but don't you two fight, please, till after we've got back and had some
food. I say, Gil, is there no place up here where we can buy some
tuck?"

"No," replied Gilmore; and then, "Sit down, Vane. Come, Distie, what is
the good of kicking up such a row about nothing. You really are too
bad, you know. Let's, you and I, row back."

"Keep your advice till it is asked for," said Distin contemptuously.
"You, Macey, go back yonder into the stern. Perhaps Mr Vane Lee will
condescend to take another seat."

"Oh, certainly," said Vane quietly, though there was a peculiar
sensation of tingling in his veins, and a hot feeling about the throat.
The peculiar human or animal nature was effervescing within him, and
though he hardly realised it himself, he wanted to fight horribly, and
there was that mastering him in those moments which would have made it a
keen joy to have stood ashore there on the grass beneath the chalk cliff
and pummelled Distin till he could not see to get back to the boat.

But he did not so much as double his fist, though he knew that