"Every day," said Colonel Mellersh drily. "Here, I'll ask Linnell to step in." Volume Two, Chapter III. NO BETTER THAN A FIDDLER. "But you can't fight a fellow like that, Rockley," said Sir Harry, who had been summoned to his brother-officer's room. "Not fight him? I'll fight him, and kill him." "But he's only a fiddler." "Enough of the gentleman for my purpose, I tell you," roared Rockley fiercely. "I'll kill him." "Nonsense, man alive. If you must meet, wing him, or pink him, or spoil the blackguard's good looks. You can't kill a man!" "Can't kill a man!" said the Major, in a low hissing voice; "can't kill a man!" "I say, Rockley! Hang it all, don't look the diabolical like that: you give me the cold shivers. Why, I wouldn't be called out by you on any consideration." "Ha-ha-ha!" laughed Rockley, with a ghastly attempt at mirth. "Did I look queer?" "Queer? You looked queer multiplied ten thousand times. Why, Rockley, one of you with a face like that would scare a regiment of French cuirassiers. I say, what was the row about--a woman?" "Curse her!" cried Rockley, flashing out into uncontrolled rage again, as he writhed with mental and bodily pain. "I'll bring her to her senses for this. Treat me as if I were some gawky boy, to be held off and coaxed on, and then bidden to keep my distance!" "What girl was it?" "Curse you! don't ask questions." "Bah! What a fire-eater you are, Rockley. As if I did not know. So the fairy Clairy has been saying, `How dare you, sir?' Ha--ha--ha!" "Do you want to quarrel, man?" said the Major, with an angry look in his eye. "Not I, old lad; not with you in that temper. So she has been riding the high horse, and bidding you keep your distance; and, just in the nick of time, she had her dear friend Dick Linnell there, and the strong-armed fool horsewhipped you." Rockley turned upon him savagely, and gripped him by the arm so fiercely that Sir Harry Payne involuntarily shrank away. "Don't!" cried the Major hoarsely. "Don't! or I can't answer for myself." "Why, Rockley!" "Don't speak to me. Man, I feel as if that Linnell had roused a devil in me, and till I see him on the turf helpless I shall know no rest. Were you ever beaten--cut--and wealed with your own whip?" "Well, egad, not to put too fine a point on it, old lad, it was not with a whip; it was a walking cane." "And did it cut deep down into your very soul, and make you feel as if nothing but blood would heal the pain?" "Well, egad, no. It hurt a good deal, but I was obliged to pocket it all. Lady's husband was a bit put out, you see. But that's a long time ago. And do you really mean to fight?" "Fight? If I don't I shall lie in wait for the scoundrel and shoot him like a dog." "You couldn't do that, my dear Rockley. Behaviour unworthy of an officer and a gentleman."