But Forrester is drunk, you know, and
will not understand the young man's civilities. He blunders out a volley
of curses right and left, and bullies Master Colleton for a fight, which
he declines. But Forrester is too drunk to mind all that. Without more
ado, he mounts the young gentleman and is about to pluck out his eyes,
when he feels the dirk in his ribs, and then they cut loose. He gets the
dirk from Master Colleton, and makes at him; but he picks up a hatchet
that happens to be lying about, and drives at his head, and down drops
Forrester, as he ought to, dead as a door-nail."
"Good heavens! and why did you not bring these facts forward? They
surely could not have condemned him under these circumstances."
"Bring them forward! To be sure, I would have done so but, as I tell
you, just when on the threshold, at the very entrance into the
transaction, up pops this hasty young fellow--I'm sorry to call your
nephew so, Colonel Colleton--but the fact is, he owes his situation
entirely to himself.
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