I will
not trouble you longer with my presence. I will bide my time."
"Stop a moment, Mr Beauchamp," said the chairman-???the pale-faced son of
a burly ploughman???-rising. "Your departure will scarcely satisfy us
now. Gentlemen, form yourselves in a double row, and grace the exit of
a disgrace. I leave it to yourselves to kick him or not as you may
think proper. But I think myself the way is to be merciful to the
confounded. Better leave him to his own conscience."
Beauchamp's hand, following its foolish habit, fell upon the hilt of
his dirk.
"Draw that dirk one inch," said the chairman hastily, clenching his
fist, "and I'll have you thrown on Luckie Cumstie's midden."
Beauchamp's hand dropped. The men formed as directed.
"Now," said the chairman sternly.
And Beauchamp without a word marched down the long avenue white as a
ghost, and looking at nobody. Each made him a low bow as he passed,
except the wag of the tertians, who turned his back on him and bowed to
the universe in general. Mr Cupples was next the door, and bowed him
out. Alec alone stood erect. He could not insult him.
Beauchamp's feelings I do not care to analyze. As he passes from that
room, he passes from my history.
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