The Colonel, never flinching as another might have done under a tone that was harsh and arrogant as a blow, before eyes that blazed upon him out of that white face, made answer simply: “I touched you once before, I think, and you suffered it with a better grace. For then it was to serve you that I touched you.” “Ha! And it will be to remind me of it that you touch me now,” came our fine gentleman’s quick, contemptuous answer. Stricken by the brutality of the words, Holles crimsoned slowly under his tan, what time his steady glance returned the Duke’s contempt with interest. Then, without answering, he swung on his heel to depart. But there was in this something so odd and so deliberately offensive to one accustomed to be treated ever with the deepest courtesy that it was now the Duke who caught him by the arm in a grip of sudden anger, arresting his departure. “Sir! A moment!” They were face to face again, and now the arrogance was entirely on the side of Holles. The Duke’s countenance reflected astonishment and some resentment. “I think,” he said at last, “that you are something wanting in respect.” “There, at least your discernment is not at fault,” the Colonel answered him. Deeper grew the Duke’s wonder. “Do you know who I am?” he asked, after another pause. “I learnt it five minutes since.” “But I thought you said that you did me a service once.” “That was many years ago. And I did not know then your name. Your grace has probably forgotten.” Because of the disdainful tone he took, he commanded the respect and attention of one who was a very master of disdain. Also the Duke’s curiosity was deeply stirred. “Will you not assist my memory?” he invited, almost gently. The Colonel laughed a little grimly. Then shaking the Duke’s still detaining grip without ceremony from his arm, he raised his hand, and holding back the light brown curls, revealed his left ear and the long ruby that adorned it. Buckingham stared an instant, then leaned nearer to obtain a closer view, and he caught his breath in sudden surprise. “How came you by that jewel?” he asked, his eyes scanning the soldier’s face as he spoke. And out of his abiding sense of injury the Colonel answered him: “It was given me after Worcester as a keepsake by an empty fribble whose life I thought worth saving.” Oddly enough there was no answering resentment from his grace. Perhaps his wonder overwhelmed and stilled at the moment every other emotion.