t,
and looking tranquilly in the face of Sir John Fenwick he said, in a
quiet tone, "Sir John Fenwick, you are in my way. You will do wisely
to retire from the door, and take your friend with you."
"Rush upon him!" cried a man named Cranburne; and as he spoke he
sprang forward himself, while Sir George Barkley and the rest came
somewhat more slowly after. The pistol was in a moment transferred
to Green's left hand, and with a back-handed blow of the right, which
seemed in fact but a mere touch, Cranburne was laid prostrate on the
ground, with his whole face and neck swimming in blood from his mouth
and nose. In his fall he nearly knocked down Sir George Barkley, who
took it as a signal for retreat towards the fire-place, and at the
same moment Green, who had not moved a step from the spot where he
stood, repeated in a louder voice, "You are in my way, Sir John
Fenwick! Move from the door!" and at the same instant, in the
silence which had followed the overthrow of Cranburne, the ringing
sound occasioned by a pistol being suddenly cocked made itself
distinctly heard.
"Move, move, Sir John Fenwick!" cried one of the others, a Captain
Porter--"this is all very silly: we risk a great deal more by making
a fracas here, than in trusting to the honour of a gentleman, such as
the Colonel."
Sir John Fenwick did not require two recommendations to follow this
suggestion, but he and Parkyns drew back simultaneously, leaving the
way free for Green to go out. He advanced, in consequence, as if to
take advantage of this movement; but before he quitted the room, he
turned and fronted the party assembled.
"Sir George Barkley," he said, looking at him with a scornful smile,
"you are, all of you, afraid of my telling what I know; but now that
the way is clear, I will so far relieve you as to say, that nothing
which any of you have told me shall ever pass my lips again. The
knowledge that I have gained or may gain by other means is my own
property, with which I shall do as I like; but there are one or two
pieces of information which I carry under my doublet, and which you
may not be sorry to hear. As for you. Sir George Barkley, the secret
I have to reveal to you is, that you are a white-livered coward. This
I shall tell to nobody but yourself--Ha, ha, ha!--because your
friends know it already, and to your enemies you will never do any
harm. Fenwick, you are just sufficient of a fool to get yourself into
a scrape, and sufficient of a knave to drag your friends in too,