rquis cannot deny that he is a gentleman. He cannot deny that I am a
gentleman. And in order to put the matter of my social position quite
beyond a doubt, I propose at the earliest opportunity to knock his hat
off. But here we are in the harbour."

They went on shore under the strong sun in a sort of daze. Syme, who had
now taken the lead as Bull had taken it in London, led them along a kind
of marine parade until he came to some cafes, embowered in a bulk of
greenery and overlooking the sea. As he went before them his step was
slightly swaggering, and he swung his stick like a sword. He was making
apparently for the extreme end of the line of cafes, but he stopped
abruptly. With a sharp gesture he motioned them to silence, but he
pointed with one gloved finger to a cafe table under a bank of flowering
foliage at which sat the Marquis de St. Eustache, his teeth shining in
his thick, black beard, and his bold, brown face shadowed by a light
yellow straw hat and outlined against the violet sea.

CHAPTER X. THE DUEL

SYME sat down at a cafe table with his companions, his blue eyes
sparkling like the bright sea below, and ordered a bottle of Saumur with
a pleased impatience. He was for some reason in a condition of curious
hilarity. His spirits were already unnaturally high; they rose as the
Saumur sank, and in half an hour his talk was a torrent of nonsense. He
professed to be making out a plan of the conversation which was going to
ensue between himself and the deadly Marquis. He jotted it down wildly
with a pencil. It was arranged like a printed catechism, with questions
and answers, and was delivered with an extraordinary rapidity of
utterance.

"I shall approach. Before taking off his hat, I shall take off my own. I
shall say, 'The Marquis de Saint Eustache, I believe.' He will say,
'The celebrated Mr. Syme, I presume.' He will say in the most exquisite
French, 'How are you?' I shall reply in the most exquisite Cockney, 'Oh,
just the Syme--'"

"Oh, shut it," said the man in spectacles. "Pull yourself together, and
chuck away that bit of paper. What are you really going to do?"

"But it was a lovely catechism," said Syme pathetically. "Do let me read
it you. It has only forty-three questions and answers, and some of the
Marquis's answers are wonderfully witty. I like to be just to my enemy."

"But what's the good of it all?" asked Dr. Bull in exasperation.

"It leads up to my challenge, don't you see," said