“I said nothing of the kind, my friend. But you did not come here to talk about Duncan, or Captain, or Colonel, or Nabob, or Rajah, or whatever potentate he may be--of him we desire to know nothing more--a man who ran away, and disgraced his family, and killed his poor father, knows better than ever to set his foot on Scargate land again. You talk about having a lease from him, a man with fifty wives, I dare say, and a hundred children! We all know what they are out there.” There are very few tricks of the human face divine more forcibly expressive of contempt than the lowering of the eyelids so that only a narrow streak of eye is exposed to the fellow-mortal, and that streak fixed upon him steadfastly; and the contumely is intensified when (as in the present instance) the man who does it is gifted with yellow lashes on the under lid. Jack o' the Smithies treated Mr. Jellicorse to a gaze of this sort; and the lawyer, whose wrath had been feigned, to rouse the other's, and so extract full information, began to feel his own temper rise. And if Jack had known when to hold his tongue, he must have had the best of it. But the lawyer knew this, and the soldier did not. “Master Jellicorse,” said the latter, with his forehead deeply wrinkled, and his eyes now opened to their widest, “in saying of that you make a liar of yourself. Lease or no lease--that you do. Leasing stands for lying in the Bible, and a' seemeth to do the same thing in Yorkshire. Fifty wives, and a hundred children! Sir Duncan hath had one wife, and lost her, through the Neljan fever and her worry; and a Yorkshire lady, as you might know--and never hath he cared to look at any woman since. There now, what you make of that--you lawyers that make out every man a rake, and every woman a light o' love? Get along! I hate the lot o' you.” “What a strange character you are! You must have had jungle fever, I should think. No, Diana, there is no danger”--for Jack o' the Smithies had made such a noise that Mrs. Jellicorse got frightened and ran in: “this poor man has only one arm; and if he had two, he could not hurt me, even if he wished it. Be pleased to withdraw, Diana. John Smithies, you have simply made a fool of yourself. I have not said a word against Sir Duncan Yordas, or his wife, or his son--” “He hath no son, I tell you; and that was partly how he lost his wife.” “Well, then, his daughters, I have said no harm of them.” “And very good reason--because he hath none. You lawyers think you are so clever; and you never know anything rightly. Sir Duncan hath himself alone to see to, and hundreds of thousands of darkies to manage, with a score of British bayonets. But he never heedeth of the bayonets, not he.” “I have read of such men, but I never saw them,” Mr. Jellicorse said, as if thinking to himself; “I always feel doubt about the possibility of them.”