warms thy vein—(where did I put that beastly braid?) D'you hear, Fizz-James? And I shall jolly well cut any vein I like."
"You be careful, Robberic," said Fitz-James, rising and attempting to draw his sword.
"Not at all," was the reply, "and this rock shall fly from its firm base as soon as I. See?"
The rock was the inverted bath, resting upon its handles. The Vice, essaying to lean upon it while he wrestled with his recalcitrant sword, found that it was not based with such firmness as to warrant its use as a simile.
Roderic Dhu looked to earth, and sky, and plain, as things he ne'er might see again.
"Would you mind helping me out with this thword, Robberic?" politely asked Fitz-James. "If I pull, this button will come right off, and my drawers will come down." As he was arrayed only in two tight garments this seemed undesirable, particularly in a Stranger.
"I will James Fizz," replied Roderic, "but some people wouldn't. Not for the person by whom they were just going to be done in—and with that very sword. . . . There you are. . . .
