t, and what affair is it of yours?" asked Boucher,
his manner threatening.

Willet took a step forward, his figure towering and full of menace. Just
behind him was Tayoga. Robert had never seen the hunter look taller or
more charged with righteous wrath. But it was an anger that burned like
a white hot flame, and it was alive with deadly menace.

"He will not draw because he was brought here to be assassinated by you,
bully and bravo that you are," replied Willet, plumbing the very depths
of Boucher's eyes with his stern gaze. "I like the French, and I know
them to be a brave and honest people. I did not think that in a
gathering of French gentlemen enough could be found to form a
treacherous and murderous conspiracy like this."

Nobody laughed in the dusk. The silence was intense. A cool wind blew
across Robert's face, and he felt anew that an invincible champion stood
by his side. Boucher broke the silence with a contemptuous laugh.

"Out of the way, sir," he said. "The affair does not concern you. If he
does not draw and defend himself I will chastise him with the flat of my
sword."

"You will not," said the hunter, in his cool, measured tones. "You will
fight me, instead."

"My quarrel is not with you."

"But it soon will be."

Near Willet was a rose bush with fresh earth heaped over its roots.
Stooping suddenly he picked up a handful and flung it with force into
the bravo's face. Boucher swore under his breath, stepped back, and
wiped away the earth.

"You've earned the precedence, sir," he said, "though I reserve the
right to attend to Mr. Lennox afterward. 'Tis a pity that I should have
to waste my steel on a common hunter. I call all of you to witness that
this quarrel was forced upon me."

"Your pity does you credit," said the hunter, "but it's not needed.
'Twere better, sir, if you have such a large supply of that commodity
that you save a little of it for yourself. And as for your attending to
Mr. Lennox afterward, that meeting, I think, will not occur."

A long breath came from the crowd. This strange hunter spoke in a
confident tone, and so he must know more than a little of the sword. De
Galisonniere had just come into the garden, and was about to speak, but
when he saw that Willet was face to face with Boucher he remained
silent.

"Robert," said the hunter, "do you give me full title to this quarrel of
yours?"

"Yes, it is yours," replied the youth, knowing that the hunter would
not be d