"I am not afraid of Michael Purlrose's threats." "What!" cried the man.

"You do not know me yet." "Better than you know yourself, sir," said Sir Morton, rising.

"That is the way to the hall.

Have the goodness to go first." The captain threw his cloak back over his right shoulder, slapped his right hand heavily upon his rusty breast-plate, and then, with a flourish, caught at the hilt of his sword, and again half drew it from its sheath, to stand scowling at Ralph, the intentness of his gaze seeming to affect his eyes, so that they began to lean towards each other, as if for help, till his look became a villainous squint.

Then, as neither father nor son quailed before him, he uttered a loud "Hah!" thrust back his sword, and strode with a series of stamps to the door, his high, buff-leather boots rustling and creaking the while.
There he faced round.
"I give you one more chance, Morton Darley," he cried.