fail to mark how the knight retreated before him with obvious and paltry evasion. That a Justice of the Peace could thus ignore his responsibilities, caused both Mr. Maunder and Mr. Moses much indignant uneasiness.
At breakfast on the day after his undertaking, David Bowden announced the thing he intended to do; and while his mother wept some natural tears, nobody else showed any sorrowful emotion. Indeed Elias was grimly glad.
"Well done thou!" he said. "I've long wanted for some son of mine to show me a bit of valour above common, and now 'tis left for the eldest to do it. You'll trounce him to the truth of music, for there's a tougher heart in you than that man, and you've lived a tougher life."
"What'll Madge say?" asked Dorcas.
"She needn't know about it," declared David. "We're to fight in about three weeks, and the day's to be kept a secret as long as possible."
"What d'you want to fight for?" asked his mother.
"It's natural. We can't be friends no more till we've had it out. You see, he was after my Madge, and I bested him, and--besides--I had another crow to pluck with the man."
A martial spirit awoke at the Warren House and Mr. Bowden frankly revelled in this business, the more so because he believed that his son must win easily. The twins took to sparring from that hour, and Napoleon and Wellington fought their battles over again. Elias sent to Plymouth for a pair of boxing gloves, and Joshua for the good of the cause, albeit not fond of hard knocks, stood up to David for half an hour each day. It was arranged that young Bowden should train at home for a fortnight and then go to Plymouth and put himself in the hands of a professional at that town for some final polish.
The brother and sister had a private talk of special significance soon after the making of the match.
David met Rhoda returning from Sheepstor, and her face was grave.
"I've just heard more about that business than you told us, David," she said. "'Tis as much for what he done to me as anything, that you be going to fight him."
"No matter the reason. A licking will do him good--if I can give him one."
"Look here," she said--impulsively for her--"I must be in this fight. You're everything to me, David--everything. I can't keep away and I won't keep away. You know the sort of pluck I've got. Well, I must be in that Ring--me and father--"
David gasped.
"Would you?"
"I tell you I must. Something calls out to me to do it. You can't fight without me there, and I don't believe you can win without me. I swear I feel it so. Wouldn't you rather have me in your corner than any man if it comes to that?"
"Yes," he admitted, "I would; but you can't do what's got to do."
"I can do all," she replied. "I talked to Mr. Shillabeer to-day, when I'd made up my mind, and I axed him what the bottle-holder have to do; and he told me. I can do it all--every bit of it."
"You shall then!" said David.
She flushed with pleasure.
"You won't regret it. I may help you to win a bit. A woman that can keep her head, like I can, is useful anywhere."
"'Twill be you and faither--and I suppose that Crocker will have the 'Dumpling' and this queer, old, white-headed London man on his side."
"I'm gay and proud as you can trust me in such a thing," she said, her breast heaving.
"Yes--and now I think on it--you and me being what we are each to t'other--I will have it so. I couldn't fight all I know if you wasn't there, Rhoda. But I warn you, 'tis ugly work. You mustn't mind seeing my head knocked into a lump of black and blue flesh."
"That's nought so long as you win. 'Twill come right again."
"But I may not win. You never know how the luck will fall."
"You must win," she answered. "'Tisn't in nature that such an evil man as him can beat you."
"I shan't stop so long as I can see, or so long as I can stand," he said. "I think I shall win myself, but it don't do to brag."
Then Rhoda told him something that disturbed him not a little.
"Margaret Stanbury knows about it," she said. "I met Mr. Snell, and he was full of it, and we had a tell. Then he told me that Timothy Mattacott was out Down Tor way, and met Madge, and went and told her. So you'll have to calm her down somehow."
"Better you do," he answered. "'Tis a woman's job. Get over this afternoon, like a good girl, and just make light of it. Tell her I'm coming across o' Sunday but can't sooner."
Rhoda obeyed and later in the day saw Madge. David's sweetheart was tearful and much perturbed.
"'Tis all my fault," she said. "Oh, Rhoda, can't nothing be done to stop it? Such terrible strong men--they'll kill each other."
"No, they won't; and 'tisn't all your fault," answered the elder. "It had to come off afore they could be friends again. 'Tis to be a fair, stand-up fight; and the best man will win; and that's our David. Don't take on and make a fuss afore him, if you want to keep friends with him. David's like faither, all for valour. He'll be vexed if you cry about it. Time enough for us to cry if he's worsted. But he won't be."
"'Tis hard for me, because I know 'em both so well," said Margaret.
"And 'tis easy for me, because I know 'em both so well," answered Rhoda. "No man ever wanted his beastly nature cooled down with a good hiding more than what Bartley Crocker does. And, be it as 'twill, 'twas Crocker that made the fight, not David."
"I shall go mad when the day comes," said Margaret.
"No, you won't, because you won't know the day. 'Tis to be kept a dark secret. And I'm going in the Ring to look after my brother."
"Rhoda!"
"I am, though. He wants it. He will have it so."
"Be you made of iron?"
"Yes, where David's good is the matter. He wants me there--and there I shall be."
"The men will hoot you--'tis an unwomanly thing."
"D'you think I care for that, so long as I know it isn't?"
"If any woman's to be there, 'tis his future wife, I should think," said Madge; but Rhoda laughed.
"You! You'd faint when--but there, don't think no more about it. Men will be men, when they're built on the pattern of David. I come from him to tell you not to fret, so mind you don't."
"'Fret!' I shall fret my hair grey, and so will mother," said the promised wife. "To think of his beautiful face all smashed about--and Bartley too--both such good-looking, kindly chaps! What ever do they want to fight about? Can't they settle their quarrels no other way?"
"You should know 'em better. 'Tis a deeper thing than a quarrel. If they are to be friends, they must hammer one another a bit first. Why not? You puzzle me. Do 'e want 'em to have their minds full of poison to each other for evermore? Better fight and let it out."
"I shall pray David, if ever he loved me, not to do it."
"Don't," said Rhoda. "Don't be a fool, Madge. I know David better than what you do; and, if you're that sort, you never will know him as well as I know him; because you'll vex and cross him and he'll hide himself from you. He's a strong, hard man and straight as sunlight. If you're going to be soft and silly over this, or over anything, you won't make him love you any the better. Take my advice and try to feel like I do--like a man about it. It's got to be, and if you are against it and come to him with a long face and silly prayers not to fight for your sake, and all that stuff, you won't choke him off fighting, but you may choke him off--"
"'Off me' you were going to say. Well, that's where I know him better than you do, for all you know him so well, Rhoda. But don't think I'm a fool. 'Tis natural I don't want the dear face I love to be bruised by another man's fist; but if 'tis to be--'tis to be. I only ask to know why 'tis to be. I suppose David can tell me that?"