"Well?" I inquired. Now as I looked up at him, the whole aspect
of the man, from the toes of his broken boots to the crown of the
battered hat, seemed to undergo a change, as though a sudden,
fierce anger had leapt into life, and been controlled, but by a
strong effort.
"On my life and soul, now!" said he, falling back a step, and
eyeing me with a vaguely unpleasant smile, "this is a most
unexpected--a most unlooked for pleasure; it is I vow it is."
"You flatter me," said I.
"No, sir, no; to meet you again--some day--somewhere--alone--quite
alone, sir, is a pleasure I have frequently dwelt upon, but never
hoped to realize. As it is, sir, having, in my present condition,
no chance of procuring better weapons than my fists, allow me to
suggest that they are, none the less, entirely at your service;
do me the infinite kindness to stand up."
"Sir," I answered, cutting a slice from the loaf, "you are the
third person within the last forty-eight hours who has mistaken
me for another; it really gets quite wearisome."
"Mistaken you," he broke in, and his smile grew suddenly bitter,
"do you think it possible that I could ever mistake you?"
"I am sure of it!" said I. "Furthermore, pray do not disparage
your fists, sir. A bout at fisticuffs never did a man any harm
that I ever heard; a man's fists are good, honest weapons supplied
by a beneficent Providence--far better than your unnatural swords
and murderous hair-triggers; at least, so I think, being, I trust,
something of a philosopher. Still, in this instance, never having
seen your face, or heard your voice until yesterday, I shall
continue to sit here, and eat my bread and cheese, and if you are
wise you will hasten to follow my so excellent example while there
is any left, for, I warn you, I am mightily sharp set."
"Come, come," said he, advancing upon me threateningly, "enough
of this foolery!"
"By all means," said I, "sit down, like a sensible fellow, and
tell me for whom you mistake me."
"Sir, with all the pleasure in life!" said he, clenching his
fists, and I saw his nostrils dilate suddenly. "I take you for
the greatest rogue, the most gentlemanly rascal but one, in all
England!"
"Yes," said I, "and my name?"
"Sir Maurice Vibart!"