The exclamations of commiseration and indignation which arose around, were abruptly checked by a loud laugh from Rupert.

There was a dead silence and Sir Richard Fulke, turning his eyes with fury towards the lad who had dared to jeer at his misfortune, demanded why he laughed.

“I could not help but laugh,” Rupert said, “although doubtless it was unmannerly; but your worship’s story reminded me so marvellously of the tale of the stout knight, Sir John Falstaff’s adventure with the men of buckram.”

“What mean you?” thundered Sir Richard.

“I mean, sir,” Rupert said quietly, “that your story has not one word of truth in it.  I came upon you in that side street off the Strand, as you were trying to carry off by force, aided by a rascal named Captain Copper, a lady, whose name shall not be mentioned here.  I had not my sword with me, but with a walking stick I trounced your friend the captain, and then, with my stick against your rapier, I knocked out those teeth you regret, with a fair thrust.

“If my word is doubted, gentlemen, Alderman Hawkins, who heard the details of the matter from the young lady and her chairman, can vouch for it.”

A cry of fury burst from Sir Richard Fulke; and drawing his sword he would have sprung upon the lad, who had not only disfigured him for life, but now made him the laughingstock of society, for the tale would, he knew, spread far and wide.  Several of the gentlemen threw themselves between him and Rupert.

“I will have his life’s blood!” he exclaimed, struggling in the arms of those who would hold him back.  “I will kill the dog as he stands.”

“Sir Richard Fulke,” Lord Fairholm said, “Master Holliday is a friend of mine, and will give you an honourable meeting when you will; but I should advise you to smother your choler.  It seems he proved himself with a stick your superior, although armed with a sword, and Master Dalboy will tell you that it is better to leave him alone.”

Master Dalboy was standing by, and going up to Sir Richard, he said: 

“Sir, if you will take my poor advice you will go your way, and leave Master Holliday to himself.  He has, as those here will tell you, proved himself fully my equal as a swordsman, and could kill you if only armed with a six-inch dagger against your sword.  It would be safer for you to challenge the whole of those in this present company than to cross swords with him.”

A few words from those standing round corroborated a statement which at first appeared fabulous; and then finding that an open encounter with Rupert would be the worst possible method of obtaining satisfaction for the injuries he had received, Sir Richard Fulke flung himself out of the school, muttering deep vows of future vengeance.