“Don’t be an ass, Jack!  Can’t you see I want your help?” Richard spoke with insistence; his hand gripped his brother’s arm.

Jack’s sneer turned to a self-satisfied smile.  “I’ll help you hammer him if you like.  There’s nothing would please me better.  Oh, all right, man!  Don’t be impatient!  That’s my funny bone when you’ve done with it.  I don’t mind telling you all about it if you want to know.  He chucked that stone at me out of sheer damned vindictiveness.  He meant to break my head, but he broke the window instead, and frightened Madam Fielding into fits.  In her own park too!  It’s a bit thick, you know, that.  I don’t wonder that she came straight along to you to demand his blood.  You’ll have the old man down next; also the beautiful Miss Moore.  It’s getting beyond a joke, you know, Dick.  You’ll have to shut the beast up.  You can’t let him run amuck like this.”

“Shut up!” Dick said again.  In the unnatural light his face looked drawn and almost haggard.  “I want to know why he did it.  Can’t you tell me?”

“Oh yes, I can tell you that.  He’s taken to haunting the place—­the Court, mind you—­to lie in wait for the fair Juliet.  She’s been too kind to him, unluckily for her, and now he dogs her footsteps whenever he gets a chance.  I caught him this afternoon, right up by the house, and I ordered him off.  You know the squire and madam both loathe the very sight of him, and small wonder.  I do myself.  So I told him what he was and where to go to, and I presume he thought he’d send me there first.  There you have it all—­cause and effect.”

“Thank you,” said Dick.  He paused a moment looking speculatively at Jack’s complacent face.  “It was a pity you were so damned offensive, but I suppose it’s the way you’re made.  You were the sole cause of the whole thing, and if there’s any decency in you, you’ll go and tell the squire so.”

He spoke quickly, but with characteristic decision and wholly without excitement.  Jack jumped, and threw back his head as if he had received a blow across the mouth.  Swift temper sprang to his eyes.

“What the devil do you mean?” he demanded.

“Exactly what I have said,” returned Dick briefly.  “And perhaps a little more.”

“Confound you!” blustered Jack.  “And you expect me to go to the squire and tell him it was my fault, do you?”

“No.  I don’t expect it in the least.”  Dick almost laughed.  “In fact, nothing would surprise me more.  Thank you for telling me the truth.  Do you mind clearing out now?  I don’t want you in here.”

His curt, cold tones fell like ice on flame.  Jack swore a muffled oath and turned away.  There was no one in the world who possessed the power to humble him as did Dick, who with a few scorching words could make him writhe in impotent fury.  For there was no gainsaying Dick.  He was always unassailable in his justice, since in a fashion inexplicable but tacitly acknowledged by both he occupied a higher plane altogether.  Ignore it as he might, deep in his inner soul Jack knew this man to be his master.  He might, and sometimes did, resist his control, deny his authority; yet the power remained, and Dick knew how to exercise it if the need arose.  They were seldom at open variance, but practically never in sympathy.