Hard knocks and sometimes fatal
injury were often the portion of these old men, so incapable of
keeping order in the streets; and thankful were they when any fray
ended in the manner of this one.
But Cale's face was rather grave as he turned homewards, his
daughter clinging to his arm, and Tom marching upon her other side
with his head high in the air.
"I thank you, my good lad, for being so stout a champion to my
little girl," he said; "and yet I would it had not happened; for it
is ill work making enemies in these days of lawlessness and
duelling."
But Tom gave a little laugh. He had no desire to make boast of his
prowess; yet he felt that he could settle a score of quarrels with
such besotted creatures as the four he had put to rout so lately,
and be no manner the worse for it himself. He was not at all sorry
for the adventure. He felt a flutter of pride and pleasure in the
shy glances shot at him from the dark eyes beneath the crimson
hood. He had made of himself a hero in the eyes of pretty Rosamund,
and he liked that experience well enough.
"Fear not for me, my good friend," he answered, in a tone that had
caught a little of the lofty ring of Lord Claud's.
"A man cannot go through life without making enemies as well as
friends.
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