The day and hour, Monsieur, I think," said Sir Percy with courtly
grace, "when you and I are to cross swords together; those are the
southern ramparts, meseems. Will you precede, sir? and I will follow."

At sight of this man, of his impudence and of his daring, Chauvelin felt
an icy grip on his heart. His cheeks became ashen white, his thin lips
closed with a snap, and the hand which held the lamp aloft trembled
visibly. Sir Percy stood before him, still smiling and with a graceful
gesture pointing towards the ramparts.

From the Church of St. Joseph the gentle, melancholy tones of the
Angelus sounding the second Ave Maria came faintly echoing in the
evening air.

With a violent effort Chauvelin forced himself to self-control,
and tried to shake off the strange feeling of obsession which had
overwhelmed him in the presence of this extraordinary man. He walked
quite quietly up to the table and placed the lamp upon it. As in a flash
recollection had come back to him.. the past few minutes!... the letter!
and Collot well on his way to Paris!

Bah! he had nothing to fear now, save perhaps death at the hand of this
adventurer turned assassin in his misery and humiliation!

"A truce on this folly, Sir Percy," he said roughly, "as you well know,
I had never any intention of fighting you with these poisoned swords of
yours and..."

"I knew that, M. Chauvelin.... But do YOU know that I have the intention
of killing you now... as you stand... like a dog!..."

And throwing down the sword with one of those uncontrolled outbursts of
almost animal passion, which for one instant revealed the real, inner
man, he went up to Chauvelin and towering above him like a great
avenging giant, he savoured for one second the joy of looking down on
that puny, slender figure which he could crush with sheer brute force,
with one blow from his powerful hands.

But Chauvelin at this moment was beyond fear.

"And if you killed me now, Sir Percy," he said quietly and looking the
man whom he so hated fully in the eyes, "you could not destroy that
letter which my colleague is taking to Paris at this very moment."

As he had anticipated, his words seemed to change Sir Percy's mood in
an instant. The passion in the handsome, aristocratic face faded in
a trice, the hard lines round the jaw and lips relaxed, the fire of
revenge died out from the lazy blue eyes, and the next moment a long,
loud, merry laugh raised the dormant echoes of the old fort