"Villain!" cried Greenwood, seizing hold of the Frenchman by the collar: "to you I owe all my misfortunes! Restore me the wealth of which you vilely plundered me!"
"Unhand me," exclaimed the ex-valet; "or, by heaven——"
"Wretch!" interrupted Greenwood: "it is for me to threaten!"
Lafleur gnashed his teeth with rage, and endeavoured to shake off his assailant with a sudden and desperate effort to hurl him to the ground.
But Greenwood, weakened though he was by illness, maintained his hold upon the Frenchman, and called for assistance.
The postillion knew not whose part to take, and therefore remained neutral.
Lafleur's situation was most critical; but he was not the man to yield without a desperate attempt to free himself.
Suddenly taking a pistol from his pocket, he aimed a furious blow, with the butt-end of the weapon, at the head of Greenwood, whose hat had fallen off in the struggle.
The blow descended with tremendous force: and in the next moment Greenwood lay senseless on the road, while Lafleur darted away from the spot with the speed of lightning.
For an instant the postillion hesitated whether to pursue the fugitive or attend to the wounded man; but he almost immediately decided in favour of the more humane course.