He was there, with a
glass of whisky in his hand, trembling now more from eagerness than
weakness. He struck it from his hold. But he had already swallowed
one glass, and he turned in a rage. He was a tall and naturally
powerful man--almost as strongly built as his son, with long arms
like his, which were dangerous even yet in such a moment of
factitious strength and real excitement. Robert could not lift his
arm even to defend himself from his father, although, had he judged
it necessary, I believe he would not, in the cause of his
redemption, have hesitated to knock him down, as he had often served
others whom he would rather a thousand times have borne on his
shoulders. He received his father's blow on the cheek. For one
moment it made him dizzy, for it was well delivered. But when the
bar-keeper jumped across the counter and approached with his fist
doubled, that was another matter. He measured his length on the
floor, and Falconer seized his father, who was making for the
street, and notwithstanding his struggles and fierce efforts to
strike again, held him secure and himself scathless, and bore him
out of the house.
A crowd gathers in a moment in London, speeding to a fray as the
vultures to carrion. On the heels of the population of the
neighbouring mews came two policemen, and at the same moment out
came the barman to the assistance of Andrew. But Falconer was as
well known to the police as if he had a ticket-of-leave, and a good
deal better.
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