ou again.'

Several voices cried 'Shame!' and one, 'You coward!' But the Englishman
stepped forward, a fixed look in his blue eyes. He took his place
without a word. I read in his drawn white face that he had made up his
mind to the worst, and his courage so won my admiration that I would
gladly and thankfully have set one of the lookers-on--any of the
lookers-on--in his place; but that could not be. So I thought of Zaton's
closed to me, of Pombal's insult, of the sneers and slights I had long
kept at the sword's point; and, pressing him suddenly in a heat of
affected anger, I thrust strongly over his guard, which had grown
feeble, and ran him through the chest.

When I saw him lying, laid out on the stones with his eyes half shut,
and his face glimmering white in the dusk--not that I saw him thus long,
for there were a dozen kneeling round him in a twinkling--I felt an
unwonted pang. It passed, however, in a moment. For I found myself
confronted by a ring of angry faces--of men who, keeping at a distance,
hissed and cursed and threatened me, calling me Black Death and the
like.

They were mostly canaille, who had gathered during the fight, and had
viewed all that passed from the farther side of the railings. While
some snarled and raged at me like wolves, calling me 'Butcher!' and
'Cut-throat!' or cried out that Berault was at his trade again, others
threatened me with the vengeance of the Cardinal, flung the edict in my
teeth, and said with glee that the guard were coming--they would see me
hanged yet.

'His blood is on your head!' one cried furiously. 'He will be dead in an
hour. And you will swing for him! Hurrah!'

'Begone,' I said.

'Ay, to Montfaucon,' he answered, mocking me.

'No; to your kennel!' I replied, with a look which sent him a yard
backwards, though the railings were between us. And I wiped my blade
carefully, standing a little apart. For--well, I could understand it--it
was one of those moments when a man is not popular. Those who had come
with me from the eating-house eyed me askance, and turned their backs
when I drew nearer; and those who had joined us and obtained admission
were scarcely more polite.

But I was not to be outdone in SANG FROID. I cocked my hat, and drawing
my cloak over my shoulders, went out with a swagger which drove the
curs from the gate before I came within a dozen paces of it. The rascals
outside fell back as quickly, and in a moment I was in the street.
Another m