d wherefore did ye slay him, the
poor soul? He drew his arrow, but he let not fly; he held you in his
hand, and spared you! 'Tis as brave to kill a kitten as a man that not
defends himself."

Dick was struck dumb.

"I slew him fair. I ran me in upon his bow," he cried.

"It was a coward blow," returned Matcham. "Y' are but a lout and bully,
Master Dick; ye but abuse advantages; let there come a stronger, we will
see you truckle at his boot! Ye care not for vengeance, neither--for
your father's death that goes unpaid, and his poor ghost that clamoureth
for justice. But if there come but a poor creature in your hands that
lacketh skill and strength, and would befriend you, down she shall go!"

Dick was too furious to observe that "she."

"Marry!" he cried, "and here is news! Of any two the one will still be
stronger. The better man throweth the worse, and the worse is well
served. Ye deserve a belting, Master Matcham, for your ill-guidance and
unthankfulness to me-ward; and what ye deserve ye shall have."

And Dick, who, even in his angriest temper, still preserved the
appearance of composure, began to unbuckle his belt.

"Here shall be your supper," he said grimly.

Matcham had stopped his tears; he was as white as a sheet, but he
looked Dick steadily in the face, and never moved. Dick took a step,
swinging the belt. Then he paused, embarrassed by the large eyes and the
thin, weary face of his companion. His courage began to subside.

"Say ye were in the wrong, then," he said lamely.

"Nay," said Matcham, "I was in the right. Come, cruel! I be lame; I be
weary; I resist not; I ne'er did thee hurt; come, beat me, coward!"

Dick raised the belt at this last provocation; but Matcham winced and
drew himself together with so cruel an apprehension, that his heart
failed him yet again. The strap fell by his side, and he stood
irresolute, feeling like a fool.

"A plague upon thee, shrew!" he said. "An ye be so feeble of hand ye
should keep the closer guard upon your tongue. But I'll be hanged before
I beat you!" and he put on his belt again. "Beat you I will not," he
continued; "but forgive you?--never. I knew ye not; ye were my master's
enemy; I lent you my horse; my dinner ye have eaten; y' have called me a
man o' wood, a coward, and a bully. Nay, by the mass! the measure is
filled and runneth over. 'Tis a great thing to be weak, I trow: ye can
do your worst, yet shall none punish you; ye may steal a man's weapons