He drained the glass and sent it crashing into the fireplace. Then he folded his arms and faced his antagonists.
Brilliana's heart seemed for a second to stand still. So beauty had not triumphed, after all. Dimly, as one in a dream, she could hear the fury of the Cavaliers find words.
"You black Jack, I will clip your ears," Rufus promised.
"Duck him in the horse-pond," suggested Bardon.
Halfman, seeing how Brilliana leaned against the table, her face pale as her smock, raged at her daring denier. He stretched out his sword as if to marshal and restrain the passions of the Cavaliers.
"Would it not be properer sport, sirs," he asked, "to tie him in a chair, like Guido Fawkes on November day, and take him through the village that loyal lads may pelt a traitor?"
Once again Halfman's pleasant invention pleased the fancy of his allies.
"Well said," assented Rufus. "Fetch a rope, some one."
Brilliana, hearing, moved a little forward. She had failed and felt shamed. Yet this thing must not happen. She could not leave her enemy thus to the mercy of his enemies. But what she would have said was stayed by a sudden diversion.
Interest in all the events that had so swiftly passed before them had gravely relaxed the vigilance of Evander's guardians. Garlinge and Clupp--a strong Gyas and a strong Cloanthes--open-eyed and open-mouthed, were open-handed also and clawed no clutch upon their prisoner's shoulder. Thoroughgood, confused between jealous thoughts of Tiffany and envious admiration of the manner in which Halfman handled the gentry, was as heedless as his inferiors, and was therefore taken too much by surprise to offer the slightest resistance when Evander, suddenly springing from between his guards, snatched from his supine arms the captured sword that had been intrusted to his keeping. Before he or any other of the astonished spectators could take any action Evander had leaped lightly into the alcove of the window, and, dragging by main force the heavy table in front of him, so as to blockade his corner, showed himself snugly intrenched behind a rampart which his single sword might well hope to hold at least for some time against the swords of half a dozen assailants.
"You will find me a spoil sport," he cried, cheerily, as he stood on guard behind the massive bulk of oak. "Dogs, here is a hart at bay; beware his antlers."