It struck him unawares.

Stumpy in this mood was a complete stranger to him, a being possessed by gods or devils, he knew not which; but in any case a being that compelled respect.
He got up and stood looking down at him speculatively, too astonished to be angry.
Scott faced him with clenched hands.

He was white as death.

"Go!" he reiterated.

"Go! There's no room for you in here.