Scott turned and regarded him in open amazement.
The steel-blue eyes met his with an odd, half-shamed expression. "You
mustn't bully me, you know, Stumpy!" he said. "Remember, I can't hit
back."
Scott stood still. He had never in his life been more astounded. Even
then, with the direct evidence before him, he could hardly believe that
the old haughty dominance had given place to something different.
"Why--can't you--hit back?" he said, almost stammering in his
uncertainty.
Sir Eustace smiled again with rueful irony. "Because I've nothing to hit
with, my son. Because you can break through my defence every time. If I
were to kick you from here to the sea, you'd still have the best of me.
Haven't you realized that yet?"
"I hadn't--no!" Scott's eyes still regarded him with a puzzled,
half-suspicious expression.
Sir Eustace turned from their scrutiny, and began to walk on. "You will
presently," he said. "The man who masters himself is always the man to
master the rest of the world in the end. I never thought I should live to
envy you, my boy. But I do."
"Envy me! Why? Why on earth?" Embarrassment mingled with the curiosity in
Scott's voice. His hostility had gone down utterly before the
unaccustomed humility of his brother's attitude.
Sir Eustace glanced at him sideways. "I'll tell you another time," he
said. "Now look here, Stumpy! You're in command, and I shan't interfere
with you so long as you take reasonable care of yourself.
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