It made a pretty story how twice he had disarmed and each time spared the London beau, who still insisted--each time more furiously--upon renewing the encounter, till Mr.Wilding had been forced to run him through the sword-arm and thus put him out of all case of continuing.

It was a story that heaped ridicule upon Sir Rowland and did credit to Mr.Wilding.
Richard heard it, and trembled, enraged and impotent.

Ruth heard it, and was stirred despite herself to a feeling of gratitude towards Wilding for the patience and toleration he had displayed.
There for a while the matter rested, and the days passed slowly.

But Sir Rowland's nature--mean at bottom--was spurred to find him some other way of wiping out the score that lay 'twixt him and Mr.Wilding, a score mightily increased by the shame that Mr.Wilding had put upon him in that encounter from which--whatever the issue--he had looked to cull great credit in Ruth's eyes.
He had been thinking constantly of the incautious words that Richard had let fall, thinking of them in conjunction with the startling rumours that were now the talk of the whole countryside.

He laid two and two together, and the four he found them make afforded him some hope.