Routed by the powers of darkness, like
many another gallant youth in the old chivalric days, his ideals
laughed at, his reforms flouted, his protests ignored--and this,
too, before he could fairly draw his sword or couch his lance.
CHAPTER XI
That Jack hardly closed his eyes that night, and that the first
thing he did after opening them the next morning was to fly to
Peter for comfort and advice, goes without saying. Even a
sensible, well-balanced young man--and our Jack, to the Scribe's
great regret, is none of these--would have done this with his skin
still smarting from an older man's verbal scorching--especially a
man like his uncle, provided, of course, he had a friend like
Peter within reach. How much more reasonable, therefore, to
conclude that a man so quixotic as our young hero would seek
similar relief.
As to the correctness of the details of this verbal scorching, so
minutely described in the preceding chapter, should the reader ask
how it is possible for the Scribe to set down in exact order the
goings-on around a dinner-table to which he was not invited, as
well as the particulars of a family row where only two persons
participated--neither of whom was himself--and this, too, in the
dead of night, with the outside doors locked and the shades and
curtains drawn--he must plead guilty without leaving the
prisoner's dock.
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