"It may be I am striving to lead them from the error of their ways," Master Morgan said with a smile, and then it was I saw Uncle 'Rasmus pulling his chair forward, at the same time shaking his fist at Horry Sims in token that he should remain in the corner. "Don't think to blind my eyes!" Hunt screamed. "Don't fancy that soft words will butter any parsnips with me! I've got you all under my thumb now, and count on keeping you there!" "All of which you know to be a lie," the Jerseyman said, still speaking quietly but fixing the fellow with his eye as if to hold closely his attention. As a matter of course these words were amply sufficient to arouse Hunt to the highest pitch of anger, and on the instant he seemed to give no heed to any save the one who had insulted him. "You shall live to repent those words, and die regretting them," he snarled. "Why don't you cause me now, single-handed, to regret them?" Morgan asked threateningly, rising to his feet as he spoke as if expecting an attack, and Abel Hunt literally shrieked in his anger: "Because there is no need why I should spend my strength on one who lays so near the gallows as do you. I count on turning you over to those officers of the king who will deal out such justice as you have earned, instead of spending my time flogging a traitor who deserves more the halter." Now it was, when it seemed to me as if Master Morgan was trying to provoke a rough-and-tumble fight, that I began, thick-head though I was, to have an inkling that some plan, which had been concerted without the aid of words, was on foot, for as soon as Abel gave way to anger old 'Rasmus moved his chair yet further forward until it stood as a barricade in front of the door, while Pierre held in his hands by one leg a stool, handling it as if it were a weapon. "If you have aught against me, and are not a coward, you will try it out now and here, instead of hiding yourself behind the skirts of the king's soldiers!" the Jerseyman cried as if he no longer held control over his temper, and at the same time he advanced a step toward Hunt as if to grapple with him. The cowardly fellow fell back before Morgan; but dared not take his eyes from the Jerseyman because of fearing that a blow might be delivered. Back, back, slowly, pace by pace he retreated, Morgan advancing with clenched fist, and then against Uncle 'Rasmus's chair the fellow came at full force, half toppling over. Then it was that I understood all the scheme; understood why Uncle 'Rasmus had moved where he did, and why the Jerseyman strove to provoke Hunt to anger, for Pierre raised the stool which he had been swinging to and fro in his hands, and brought it down upon the scoundrel's head with such force that he was nigh knocked to the floor.