ve called
me a thief quite often enough to satisfy your rage: and further epithets
might upset my temper."

"Let go my throat!"

"I will in a moment or two, as soon as I have made up my mind what I am
going to do with you, my impetuous young friend--whether I shall truss
you like a fowl and put you in charge of our worthy host, as guilty of
assaulting one of his guests, or whether I shall do you some trifling
injury to punish you for trying to do me a grave one."

"Right is on my side," said St. Genis doggedly. "I do not care what you
do to me."

"Right is apparently on your side, my friend. I'll not deny it.
Therefore, I still hesitate."

"Like a rogue and a vagabond at dead of night you attacked and robbed
those who have never shown you anything but kindness."

"Until the hour when they turned me out of their house like a dishonest
lacquey, without allowing me a word of explanation."

"Then this is your idea of vengeance, is it, Mr. Clyffurde?"

"Yes, M. de St. Genis, it is. But not quite in the manner that you
suppose. I am going to set you free now in order to set your mind at
rest. But let me warn you that I shall be just as much on the alert
against another attack from you as ever I was before, and that I could
ward off two or even three assailants with my left arm and knee as
easily as I warded off one. It is a way we have in England."

He relaxed his hold on Maurice's legs and throat, and the young
man--fretting and fuming, wild with impotent wrath and with
mortification--struggled to his feet.

"Are you proposing to give me some explanation to mitigate your crime?"
he said roughly. "If so, let me tell you that I will accept none.
Putting the question aside of your abominable theft, you have committed
an outrage against people whom I honour, and against the woman whom I
love."

"Nor do I propose to give you any explanation, M. de St. Genis,"
retorted Clyffurde, who still spoke quite quietly and evenly. "But for
the sake of your own peace of mind, which you will I hope communicate to
the people whom you honour, I will tell you a few simple facts."

Neither of the men sat down: they stood facing one another now across
the table whereon stood a couple of tallow candles which threw fitful,
yellow lights on their faces--so different, so strangely
contrasted--young and well-looking both--both strongly moved by passion,
yet one entirely self-controlled, while in the other's eyes that passion
glowed fier