He dined at the Antlers
in company with some sporting gentlemen of the neighborhood, and
when the conversation naturally turned upon field sports, Mr. John
Stone spoke of the fine shooting that was to be had around Hurricane
Hall, when one of the gentlemen,, looking straight across the table
to Mr. Stone, said:
"Ahem! That pretty little huntress of Hurricane Hall--that niece or
ward, or mysterious daughter of Old Hurricane, who engages with so
much enthusiasm in your field sports over there, is a girl of very
free and easy manners I understand--a Diana in nothing but her love
of the chase!"
"Sir, it is a base calumny! And the man who endorses it is a
shameless slanderer! There is my card! I may be found at my present
residence, Hurricane Hall," said John Stone, throwing his pasteboard
across the table, and rising to leave it.
"Nay, nay," said the stranger, laughing and pushing the card away.
"I do not endorse the statement--I know nothing about it! I wash my
hands of it," said the young man. And then upon Mr. Stone's
demanding the author of the calumny, he gave the name of Mr. Craven
Le Noir, who, he said, had "talked in his cups," at a dinner party
recently given by one of his friends.
"I pronounce--publicly, in the presence of all these witnesses, as I
shall presently to Craven Le Noir himself--that he is a shameless
miscreant, who has basely slandered a noble girl! You, sir, have
declined to endorse those words; henceforth decline to repeat them!
For after this I shall call to a severe account any man who
ventures, by word, gesture or glance to hint this slander, or in any
other way deal lightly with the honorable name and fame of the lady
in question.
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