you. Go away from me, I tell you."

"You don't want to have nothink to say to me! Oh! And for why?
Because you ain't man enough; that's why. Wot do you mean by coming
and shoving your elbow into a man's bread-basket for, and then
wanting to sneak off? Did you think I'd 'a' bin frightened of your
velvet coat?"

"Very well," said Cashel, pacifically; "we'll say that I'm not man
enough for you. So that's settled. Are you satisfied?"

But the other, greatly emboldened, declared with many oaths that he
would have Cashel's heart out, and also that of Lydia, to whom he
alluded in coarse terms. The crowd cheered, and called upon him to
"go it." Cashel then said, sullenly,

"Very well. But don't you try to make out afterwards that I forced a
quarrel on you. And now," he added, with a grim change of tone that
made Lydia shudder, and shifted her fears to the account of his
antagonist, "I'll make you wish you'd bit your tongue out before you
said what you did a moment ago. So, take care of yourself."

"Oh, I'll take care of myself," said the man, defiantly. "Put up
your hands."

Cashel surveyed his antagonist's attitude with unmistakable
disparagement. "You will know when my hands are up by the feel of
the pavement," he said, at last. "Better keep your coat on. You'll
fall softer."