There's the making of a
man in you."
"You're very kind," said Bashville, pocketing the card with a grin.
"And now let me give you a word of advice that will be of use to you
as long as you live," said Cashel, impressively. "You did a very
silly thing to-day. You threw a man down--a fighting-man--and then
stood looking at him like a fool, waiting for him to get up and kill
you. If ever you do that again, fall on him as heavily as you can
the instant he's off his legs. Drop your shoulder well into him,
and, if he pulls you over, make play with the back of your head. If
he's altogether too big for you, put your knee on his throat as if
by accident. But, on no account, stand and do nothing. It's flying
in the face of Providence."
Cashel emphasized these counsels by taps of his forefinger on one of
Bashville's buttons. In conclusion, he nodded, opened the
house-door, and walked away in buoyant spirits.
Lydia, standing year the library window, saw him pass, and observed
how his light, alert step and a certain gamesome assurance of manner
marked him off from a genteelly promenading middle-aged gentleman, a
trudging workman, and a vigorously striding youth who were also
passing by. The iron railings through which she saw him reminded her
of the admirable and dangerous creatures which were passing and
repassing behind iron bars in the park yonder.
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