‘You might beat me with no hands at all,’ said I, ’fair damsel, only by looking at me—­I never saw such a face and figure, both regal—­why, you look like Ingeborg, Queen of Norway; she had twelve brothers, you know, and could lick them all, though they were heroes:—­

   On Dovrefeld in Norway
   Were once together seen
   The twelve heroic brothers
   Of Ingeborg the queen.’

‘None of your chaffing, young fellow,’ said the tall girl, ’or I will give you what shall make you wipe your face; be civil, or you will rue it.’

‘Well, perhaps I was a peg too high,’ said I; ’I ask your pardon—­here’s something a bit lower:—­

   As I was jawing to the gav yeck divvus
   I met on the drom miro Rommany chi—­’

None of your Rommany chies, young fellow,’ said the tall girl, looking more menacingly than before, and clenching her fist; ’you had better be civil, I am none of your chies; and though I keep company with gypsies, or, to speak more proper, half-and-halfs, I would have you to know that I come of Christian blood and parents, and was born in the great house of Long Melford.’

‘I have no doubt,’ said I, ’that it was a great house; judging from your size I shouldn’t wonder if you were born in a church.’

‘Stay, Belle,’ said the man, putting himself before the young virago, who was about to rush upon me, ’my turn is first’—­then, advancing to me in a menacing attitude, he said, with a look of deep malignity, ’"Afraid,” was the word, wasn’t it?’

‘It was,’ said I, ’but I think I wronged you; I should have said, aghast; you exhibited every symptom of one labouring under uncontrollable fear.’

The fellow stared at me with a look of stupid ferocity, and appeared to be hesitating whether to strike or not:  ere he could make up his mind, the tall girl started forward, crying, ‘He’s chaffing; let me at him’; and before I could put myself on my guard, she struck me a blow on the face which had nearly brought me to the ground.

{picture:The fellow stared at me with a look of stupid ferocity, and appeared to be hesitating whether to strike or not:  page480.jpg}

‘Enough,’ said I, putting my hand to my cheek; ’you have now performed your promise, and made me wipe my face:  now be pacified, and tell me fairly the grounds of this quarrel.’

‘Grounds!’ said the fellow; ’didn’t you say I was afraid; and if you hadn’t, who gave you leave to camp on my ground?’

‘Is it your ground?’ said I.

‘A pretty question,’ said the fellow; ’as if all the world didn’t know that.  Do you know who I am?’

‘I guess I do,’ said I; ’unless I am much mistaken, you are he whom folks call the “Flaming Tinman.”  To tell you the truth, I’m glad we have met, for I wished to see you.  These are your two wives, I suppose; I greet them.  There’s no harm done—­there’s room enough here for all of us—­we shall soon be good friends, I daresay; and when we are a little better acquainted, I’ll tell you my history.’