Whether the young squire misinterpreted my uncle's desire of peace,
or was enraged at the fate of his hounds beyond his usual pitch
of resolution, I know not; but he snatched a flail from one of his
followers, and came up with a show of assaulting the lieutenant, who,
putting himself in a posture of defence, proceeded thus: "Lookee,
you lubberly son of a w--e, if you come athwart me, 'ware your
gingerbread work. I'll be foul of your quarter, d--n me."

This declaration, followed by a flourish of his hanger, seemed to
check the progress of the young gentleman's choler, who, looking
behind him, perceived his attendants had slunk into the house, shut
the gate, and left him to decide the contention by himself.

Here a parley ensued, which was introduced by my cousin's asking,
"Who the devil are you? What do you want? Some scoundrel of a seaman,
I suppose, who has deserted and turned thief. But don't think you
shall escape, sirrah--I'll have you hang'd, you dog, I will. Your
blood shall pay for that of my two hounds, you ragamuffin. I would
not have parted with them to save your whole generation from the
gallows, you ruffian, you!" "None of your jaw, you swab--none of
your jaw," replied my uncle, "else I shall trim your laced jacket
for you. I shall rub you down with an oaken towel, my boy, I
shall." So saying, he sheathed his hanger, and grasped his cudgel.
Meanwhile the people of the house being alarmed, one of my female
cousins opened a window, and asked what was the matter. "The
matter!" answered the lieutenant; "no great matter, young woman;
I have business with the old gentleman, and this spark, belike,
won't allow me to come alongside of him," that's all. After a few
minutes pause we were admitted, and conducted to my grandfather's
chamber through a lane of my relations, who honoured me with very