and made him a low bow, which he, not to be outdone in courtesy, any
more than in weightier matters, returned in his own manner, fierce and
arrogant as that of a Spanish conquistador.

"Captain Robert Baldry, I trusted that you would return," said Ferne.
"And now, since you are no longer guest of mine, we will resume our talk
of Fayal in the Azores. Your gossips lied, sir; and he who, not staying
to examine a quarrel, becomes a repeater of lies, may chance upon a
summer day, in a tavern such as this, to be called a liar. My
cartel, sir!"

He flung his glove, which scarce had felt the floor before the other
snatched it up. "God's death! you shall be accommodated!" he cried.
"Here and now, is't not? and with sword and dagger? Sir, I will spit you
like a lark, or like the Spaniard I did vanquish for a Harry shilling
at El Gran' Canario, last Luke's day--"

The three witnesses of the challenge sprang to their feet, the gittern
falling from Sedley's hands, and Sir John's papers fluttering to the
floor. The latter thrust himself between the two who had bared their
weapons. "What is this, gentlemen? Mortimer Ferne, put up your sword!
Captain Baldry, your valor may keep for the Spaniards! Obey me, sirs!"

"Let be, John Nevil," said Ferne. "To-morrow I become your sworn man.
To-day my honor is my Admiral!"

"Will you walk, Sir Mortimer Ferne?" demanded Baldry. "The Bull and
Bear, just down the street, hath a little parlor--a most sweet retired
place, and beareth no likeness to the poop of the _Mere Honour_. Sir
John Nevil, your servant, sir--to-morrow!"