"It was," said I, "but I think I wronged you; I should have said, aghast--you exhibited every symptom of one labouring under uncontrollable fear." The fellow stared at me with a look of stupid ferocity, and appeared to be hesitating whether to strike or not: ere he could make up his mind, the tall girl stepped forward, crying, "He's chaffing; let me at him!" and, before I could put myself on my guard, she struck me a blow on the face which had nearly brought me to the ground. "Enough," said I, putting my hand to my cheek; "you have now performed your promise, and made me wipe my face: now be pacified, and tell me fairly the ground of this quarrel." "Grounds!" said the fellow; "didn't you say I was afraid? and if you hadn't, who gave you leave to camp on my ground?" "Is it your ground?" said I. "A pretty question," said the fellow; "as if all the world didn't know that. Do you know who I am?" "I guess I do," said I; "unless I am much mistaken, you are he whom folks call the 'Flaming Tinman.' To tell you the truth, I'm glad we have met, for I wished to see you. These are your two wives, I suppose; I greet them. There's no harm done--there's room enough here for all of us--we shall soon be good friends, I dare say; and when we are a little better acquainted, I'll tell you my history." "Well, if that doesn't beat all!" said the fellow. "I don't think he's chaffing now," said the girl, whose anger seemed to have subsided on a sudden; "the young man speaks civil enough." "Civil!" said the fellow, with an oath; "but that's just like you: with you it is a blow, and all over. Civil! I suppose you would have him stay here, and get into all my secrets, and hear all I may have to say to my two morts." "Two morts," {86} said the girl, kindling up--"where are they? Speak for one, and no more. I am no mort of yours, whatever some one else may be. I tell you one thing, Black John, or Anselo, for t'other an't your name, the same thing I told the young man here, be civil, or you will rue it." The fellow looked at the girl furiously, but his glance soon quailed before hers; he withdrew his eyes, and cast them on my little horse, which was feeding amongst the trees. "What's this?" said he, rushing forward and seizing the animal. "Why, as I am alive, this is the horse of that mumping villain Slingsby." "It's his no longer; I bought it and paid for it." "It's mine now," said the fellow; "I swore I would seize it the next time I found it on my beat--ay, and beat the master too." "I am not Slingsby." "All's one for that." "You don't say you will beat me?" "Afraid was the word." "I'm sick and feeble." "Hold up your fists." "Won't the horse satisfy you?" "Horse nor bellows either." "No mercy, then." "Here's at you." "Mind your eyes, Jack. There, you've got it. I thought so," shouted the girl, as the fellow staggered back from a sharp blow in the eye. "I thought he was chaffing at you all along."