"You shall pay for this," I cried hotly.

"As for you, l'Echelle, it shall cost you your place, and I'll take
the law of you, Colonel Annesley; I'll get damages and you shall
answer for your illegal action."

"Pfui!" retorted the Colonel. "The mischief you can do is nothing to
what you might have done. We can stand the racket. I've bested you for
the present--that's the chief thing, anyway. You can't persecute the
poor lady any more."

"Poor lady! Do you know who she is or was, anyway?"

"Of course I do," he answered bold as brass.

"Did she let on? Told you, herself? My word! She's got a nerve. I
wonder she'd own to it after all she's done."

"Silence!" he shouted, in a great taking. "If you dare to utter a
single word against that lady, I'll break every bone in your body."

"I'm saying nothing--it's not me, it's all the world. It was in the
papers, you must have read them, the most awful story, such--such
depravity there never was--such treachery, such gross misconduct."

He caught me by the arm so violently and looked so fierce that for a
moment I was quite alarmed.

"Drop it, I tell you. Leave the lady alone, both by word and deed.