Quick, man--I mean it!" Before Chatfield, moaning and groaning, could find his voice capable of words, Marston Greyle, pale and excited, came round a corner of the ruins.
"What's this, what's all this ?" he demanded.

"Here, yon sir, what are you doing with that stick! What--" "I'm about to chastise your agent for his scoundrelly insolence to your cousin," retorted Copplestone with cheerful determination.

"Now then, my man, quick--I always keep my word!" "Hand the stick to Mr.Marston Greyle, Mr.Copplestone," said Audrey in her demurest manner.

"I'm sure he would beat Chatfield soundly if he had heard what he said to me--his cousin." "Thank you, but I'm in possession," said Copplestone, grimly.

"Mr.
Marston Greyle can kick him when I've thrashed him.