"Or more determined!" added Barnabas.

"Or more determined, yes," nodded the Viscount.

"Then I shall certainly marry her—some day," said Barnabas.

Again the Viscount eyed Barnabas a while in silence, but this time, be it noted, he smiled no more.

"Hum!" said he at last, "so it seems in finding a friend I have also found myself another rival?"

"I greatly fear so," said Barnabas, and they walked on together.

But when they had gone some distance in moody silence, the Viscount spoke:

"Beverley," said he, "forewarned is forearmed!"

"Yes," answered Barnabas, "that is why I told you."

"Then," said the Viscount, "I think we'll—shake hands—after all."

The which they did forthwith.

Now it was at this moment that Milo of Crotona took it upon himself to become visible.

CHAPTER XIV

CONCERNING THE BUTTONS OF ONE MILO OF CROTONA

Never did a pair of top boots, big or little, shine with a lustre more resplendent; never was postilion's jacket more excellent of fit, nattier, or more carefully brushed; and nowhere could there be found two rows of crested silver buttons with such an air of waggish roguery, so sly, so knowing, and so pertinaciously on the everlasting wink, as these same eight buttons that adorned the very small person of his groomship, Milo of Crotona. He had slipped out suddenly from the hedge, and now stood cap in hand, staring from the Viscount to Barnabas, and back again, with his innocent blue eyes, and with every blinking, twinkling button on his jacket. And his eyes were wide and guileless—the eyes of a cherub; but his buttons!

Yea, forsooth, it was all in his buttons as they winked slyly one to another as much as to say:

"Aha! we don't know why his Lordship's nankeens are greened at the knees, not we! nor why the gent's lower lip is unduly swelled. Lord love your eyes and limbs, oh no!"

"What, my imp of innocence!" exclaimed the Viscount. "Where have you sprung from?"

"'Edge, m'lud."

"Ah! and what might you have been doing in the hedge now?"

"Think'n', m'lud."

"And what were you thinking?"

"I were think'n', m'lud, as the tall genelman here is a top-sawyer wi' 'is daddies, m'lud. I was."

"Aha! so you've been watching, eh?"

"Not watchin'—oh no, m'lud; I just 'appened ter notice—that's all, m'lud."

"Ha!" exclaimed the Viscount; "then I suppose you happened to notice me being—knocked down?"

"No, m'lud; ye see, I shut my eyes—every time."

"Every time, eh!" said his Lordship, with his whimsical smile. "Oh Loyalty, thy name is Milo! But hallo!" he broke off, "I believe you've been fighting again—come here!"

"Fightin', m'lud! What, me?"

"What's the matter with your face—it's all swollen; there, your cheek?"

"Swellin', m'lud; I don't feel no swellin'."

"No, no; the other cheek."

"Oh, this, m'lud. Oh, 'e done it, 'e did; but I weren't fightin'."

"Who did it?"

"S' Mortimer's friend, 'e done it, 'e did."

"Sir Mortimer's friend?"

"Ah, 'im, m'lud."

"But, how in the world—"

"Wi' his fist, m'lud."

"What for?"

"'Cos I kicked 'im, I did."

"You—kicked Sir Mortimer Carnaby's friend!" exclaimed the Viscount.

"What in heaven's name did you do that for?"

"'Cos you told me to, m'lud, you did."

"I told you to kick—"

"Yes, m'lud, you did. You sez to me, last week—arter I done up that butcher's boy—you sez to me, 'don't fight 'cept you can't 'elp it,' you sez; 'but allus pertect the ladies,' you sez, 'an if so be as 'e's too big to reach wi' your fists—why, use your boots,' you sez, an' so I did, m'lud."

"So you were protecting a lady, were you, Imp?"

"Miss Clemency, mam; yes, m'lud. She's been good ter me, Miss Clemency, mam 'as—an' so when I seen 'im strugglin' an' a-tryin' to kiss 'er—when I 'eered 'er cry out—I came in froo de winder, an' I kicked 'im, I did, an' then—"

"Imp," said the Viscount gravely, "you are forgetting your aitches! And so Sir Mortimer's friend kissed her, did he? Mind your aitches now!"

"Yes, m' lud; an' when Hi seen the tears hin her eyes—"