ered agonies of pain; for his exertions had
strained the newly knitted tissues of the wound in his side, and the
hurt of this was wholly hellish.

But always he contrived somehow, strangely to him, to escape
annihilation and find enough in reserve to fly back at Dupont's throat
upon the first indication of desire on the part of the latter to yield
the offensive. To do less were to permit him to find and use his
weapon, whatever it might be--whether knife or pistol was besides the
issue.

Chairs, the chaise-longue, tables were overturned and kicked about.
Priceless bits of porcelain and glass, lamps, vases, the fittings of
the dressing-table were cast down in fragments to the floor.

Constrained to look to herself or be trampled underfoot, and galvanized
with terror, the woman struggled up and tottered hither and yon like a
bewildered child, in the beginning too bemused to be able to keep out
of the way of the combatants. If she crouched against a wall, battling
bodies brushed her away from it. Did she take refuge in a corner she
must abandon it else be crushed. Once she stumbled between the two, and
before Lanyard could thrust her aside Dupont had fallen back half a
dozen feet and worried a pistol out of his clothing.

He fired first from the hip, and the shot shattered the mirror of the
dressing-table. Trying for better aim, he lifted and levelled the
weapon with a trembling arm which he sought to steady by cupping the
elbow in his left hand. But the second bullet ploughed into the ceiling
as Lanyard in desperation executed a coup de pied in la savate, and
narrowly succeeded in kicking the pistol from Dupont's grasp.

Bereft thus of his last hope--they were too evenly matched, and both
too far spent for either to force a victory with his naked hands--the
Apache swung round and ran, at the same time throwing a heavy chair
over on its back in the path of pursuit. Unable to avoid it, Lanyard
tried to hurdle it, caught a foot on one of its legs and, as Dupont
threw himself headlong down the stairs, crashed to the floor with an
impact that shook its beams.

Main will-power lifted him to his knees before he collapsed, his last
ounce of endurance wasted. Then the woman, with flying draperies, a
figure like a fury, sped to the banister rail and leaning over emptied
the several shots remaining in Dupont's automatic down the well of the
staircase. It is doubtful if she saw anything to aim at or accomplished
more than to w