Cashel Byron's Profession - Page 111/178

"And now let me give you a word of advice that will be of use to you

as long as you live," said Cashel, impressively. "You did a very

silly thing to-day. You threw a man down--a fighting-man--and then

stood looking at him like a fool, waiting for him to get up and kill

you. If ever you do that again, fall on him as heavily as you can

the instant he's off his legs. Drop your shoulder well into him,

and, if he pulls you over, make play with the back of your head. If

he's altogether too big for you, put your knee on his throat as if

by accident. But, on no account, stand and do nothing. It's flying

in the face of Providence."

Cashel emphasized these counsels by taps of his forefinger on one of

Bashville's buttons. In conclusion, he nodded, opened the

house-door, and walked away in buoyant spirits.

Lydia, standing year the library window, saw him pass, and observed

how his light, alert step and a certain gamesome assurance of manner

marked him off from a genteelly promenading middle-aged gentleman, a

trudging workman, and a vigorously striding youth who were also

passing by. The iron railings through which she saw him reminded her

of the admirable and dangerous creatures which were passing and

repassing behind iron bars in the park yonder. But she exulted, in

her quiet manner, in the thought that, dangerous as he was, she had

no fear of him. When his cabman had found him and driven him off she

went to her desk, opened a private drawer in it, took out her

falher's last letter, and sat for some time looking at it without

unfolding it.

"It would be a strange thing, father," she said, as if he were

actually there to hear her, "if your paragon should turn aside from

her friends, the artists, philosophers, and statesmen, to give

herself to an illiterate prize-fighter. I felt a pang of absolute

despair when he replied to my forty thousand pounds a year with an

unanswerable good-bye."

She locked up her father, as it were, in the drawer again, and rang

the bell. Bashville appeared, somewhat perturbed.

"If Mr. Byron calls again, admit him if I am at home."

"Yes, madam."

"Thank you."

"Begging your pardon, madam, but may I ask has any complaint been

made of me?"

"None." Bashville was reluctantly withdrawing when she added, "Mr.

Byron gave me to understand that you tried to prevent his entrance

by force. You exposed yourself to needless risk by doing so; and you

may make a rule in future that when people are importunate, and will

not go away when asked, they had better come in until you get

special instructions from me. I am not finding fault; on the

contrary, I approve of your determination to carry out your orders;

but under exceptional circumstances you may use your own

discretion."