Chapter 16

Give way--give way--I must and will have justice.
And tell me not of privilege and place;
Where I am injured, there I'll sue redress.
Look to it, every one who bars my access;
I have a heart to feel the injury,
A hand to night myself, and, by my honour,
That hand shall grasp what grey-beard Law denies me.
_The Chamberlain._

It was not long ere Nigel discovered Lord Dalgarno advancing towards
him in the company of another young man of quality of the Prince's
train; and as they directed their course towards the south-eastern
corner of the Park, he concluded they were about to go to Lord
Huntinglen's. They stopped, however, and turned up another path
leading to the north; and Lord Glenvarloch conceived that this change
of direction was owing to their having seen him, and their desire to
avoid him.

Nigel followed them without hesitation by a path which, winding around
a thicket of shrubs and trees, once more conducted him to the less
frequented part of the Park. He observed which side of the thicket was
taken by Lord Dalgarno and his companion, and he himself, walking
hastily round the other verge, was thus enabled to meet them face to
face.

"Good-morrow, my Lord Dalgarno," said Lord Glenvarloch, sternly.

"Ha! my friend Nigel," answered Lord Dalgarno, in his usual careless
and indifferent tone, "my friend Nigel, with business on his brow?--
but you must wait till we meet at Beaujeu's at noon--Sir Ewes
Haldimund and I are at present engaged in the Prince's service."

"If you were engaged in the king's, my lord," said Lord Glenvarloch,
"you must stand and answer me."

"Hey-day!" said Lord Dalgarno, with an air of great astonishment,
"what passion is this? Why, Nigel, this is King Cambyses' vein!--You
have frequented the theatres too much lately--Away with this folly,
man; go, dine upon soup and salad, drink succory-water to cool your
blood, go to bed at sun-down, and defy those foul fiends, Wrath and
Misconstruction."

"I have had misconstruction enough among you," said Glenvarloch, in
the same tone of determined displeasure, "and from you, my Lord
Dalgarno, in particular, and all under the mask of friendship."

"Here is a proper business!"--said Dalgarno, turning as if to appeal
to Sir Ewes Haldimund; "do you see this angry ruffler, Sir Ewes? A
month since, he dared not have looked one of yonder sheep in the face,
and now he is a prince of roisterers, a plucker of pigeons, a
controller of players and poets--and in gratitude for my having shown
him the way to the eminent character which he holds upon town, he
comes hither to quarrel with his