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"Your life for this!" said the bully, with a face which was
distorted with rage.
"If you can take it," returned Alleyne.
"Good lad!" whispered Ford. "Stick to it close as wax."
"I shall see justice," cried Norbury, Sir Oliver's silent
attendant.
"You brought it upon yourself, John Tranter," said the tall
squire, who had been addressed as Roger Harcomb. "You must ever
plague the new-comers. But it were shame if this went further.
The lad hath shown a proper spirit."
"But a blow! a blow!" cried several of the older squires. "There
must be a finish to this."
"Nay; Tranter first laid hand upon his head," said Harcomb. "How
say you, Tranter? The matter may rest where it stands?"
"My name is known in these parts," said Tranter, proudly, "I can
let pass what might leave a stain upon another. Let him pick up
his glove and say that he has done amiss."
"I would see him in the claws of the devil first," whispered
Ford.
"You hear, young sir?" said the peacemaker. "Our friend will
overlook the matter if you do but say that you have acted in heat
and haste.


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