is a matter of
killing. Either you or I have to be killed. To-night! Do you hear, or
are you struck dumb with fear?"

"No," the other replied, at last, with amazement. "Who are you who,
under a name I know not, dare to assault me thus with such opprobrious
words? Nay," turning to the masked woman, who was again muttering in
his ear, "have no fear. I will have his blood for it. If he is a
gentleman with whom I can cross swords, we fight ere another hour
passes."

"Also," St. Georges broke in, "you are, I perceive, a coward, besides
the other things I have charged you with. You know who I am well
enough. If not--if your memory is as treacherous as your courage seems
poor, let me remind you. I am the man whom you attacked with five
others at Aignay-le-Duc; the man whose child you sought to slay; the
father of the child whom your woman and your man-servant seized away
from one who had it in his possession, and whom they slew also, you
not appearing on the scene. You are careful of yourself, Monsieur de
Roquemaure! In the first treacherous attack you shielded your head as
none other's head was shielded; in the second you employed a woman and
a man-servant to do that which, perhaps, you feared to do yourself."

Every word he uttered was studied insult, every word was weighed
before it was delivered, substituted for any other which rose to his
lips if not deemed by him sufficiently galling. He had sworn to kill
this man if ever he encountered him again, and he meant to kill him
to-night now he had met him. Therefore, since he was resolved he
should have no loophole of escape from crossing swords with him, he so
phrased his remarks that he must fight or acknowledge himself the
veriest poltroon that breathed.

"But," he continued, "if you still value your hide so much that you
dare not meet me, now at once, tell me where you and this woman--if it
be the same, as I suppose--have hidden my child; lead me to her, and
then you shall go free. Only choose, and choose at once."

He heard the woman mutter to De Roquemaure: "Who is the woman he
speaks of, who, Raoul?" while also he saw her eyes glisten again
through the mask; then, as he strove to catch her companion's reply,
that companion turned on him, and said:

"Monsieur St. Georges, as you term yourself, be very sure I intend to
slay you to-night. I do not know you, but your insults to me and
to--this--lady, although the utterances of a madman, have to be wiped
out at once