"
At these words Teddy was terror-stricken. He made no attempt to
disguise his condition. "It ain't fair," he exclaimed, retreating as
far as the crowd would permit him. "I give in. Cut it, master;
you're too clever for me." But his comrades, with a pitiless jeer,
pushed him towards Cashel, who advanced remorselessly. Teddy dropped
on both knees. "Wot can a man say more than that he's had enough?"
he pleaded. "Be a Englishman, master; and don't hit a man when he's
down."
"Down!" said Cashel. "How long will you stay down if I choose to
have you up?" And, suiting the action to the word, he seized Teddy
with his left hand, lifted him to his feet, threw him into a
helpless position across his knee, and poised his right fist like a
hammer over his upturned face. "Now," he said, "you're not down.
What have you to say for yourself before I knock your face down your
throat?"
"Don't do it, gov'nor," gasped Teddy. "I didn't mean no harm. How
was I to know that the young lady was a pal o' yourn?" Here he
struggled a little; and his face assumed a darker hue. "Let go,
master," he cried, almost inarticulately. "You're ch--choking me."
"Pray let him go," said Lydia, disengaging herself from the butcher
and catching Cashel's arm.
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