"Sir Oliver has gone to Arwenack upon a
punitive business," said he.
"An' what be that, zur?" quoth Nicholas.
"He has gone to punish Sir John for having maligned him."
A grin spread upon the weather-beaten countenance of Nicholas.
"Be that so? Marry, 'twere time. Sir John he be over long i' th'
tongue.
Lionel stood amazed at the man's easy confidence and supreme assurance
of how his master must acquit himself.
"You...you have no fear, Nicholas...." He did not add of what. But the
servant understood, and his grin grew broader still.
"Fear? Lackaday! I bain't afeeard for Sir Oliver, and doan't ee be
afeeard. Sir Oliver'll be home to sup with a sharp-set appetite--'tis
the only difference fighting ever made to he."
The servant was justified of his confidence by the events, though
through a slight error of judgment Sir Oliver did not quite accomplish
all that promised and intended. In anger, and when he deemed that he
had been affronted, he was--as his chronicler never wearies of
insisting, and as you shall judge before the end of this tale is
reached--of a tigerish ruthlessness. He rode to Arwenack fully
resolved to kill his calumniator. Nothing less would satisfy him.
Arrived at that fine embattled castle of the Killigrews which commanded
the entrance to the estuary of the Fal, and from whose crenels the
country might be surveyed as far as the Lizard, fifteen miles away, he
found Peter Godolphin there before him; and because of Peter's presence
Sir Oliver was more deliberate and formal in his accusation of Sir John
than he had intended.
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