"Is this an insult, sir?" he asked.
"As you please," retorted Ronald, indifferently. "You will understand my meaning plainly, when I tell you that I had the pleasure of an interview with Miss Cotoner this morning."
"Indeed!" said Vassalla, his face looking as black as thunder; "and she said--"
"More than you would have cared to hear," replied the Australian. "She simply contradicted every word you said, and told me that her sister came on board and said good-bye to her, and that you, the Marchese Vassalla, knew she was there, and saw her down the gangway as she left the ship."
"It's a lie," retorted Vassalla, livid with rage; "Mrs. Verschoyle was not on board."
"Go and ask Miss Cotoner; she will tell you differently," said Ronald, fiercely. "You are playing a dangerous game, Marchese, for I have sworn to find out who killed Leopold Verschoyle, and, by God, I'll keep my word."
"You shall answer for this," hissed Vassalla between his teeth.
"When and where you please," retorted the Australian. "If the days of duelling are past in England, they are not on the Continent, and if you care to defend your damnable lies, I'll meet you anywhere you please."
"You shall hear from me, Monsieur," said Vassalla, hoarsely, and he walked away without another word.
"The black villain," muttered Ronald, as he strode along; "I believe he knows more about this affair than he cares to tell. I've been talking grandiloquently, I suppose; but I'll stick to my word, and I think I can hold my own both with pistol and rapier."