He turned. Michel Ardan was in front of him, repeating in every tone—
"And a kind one!"
"Michel Ardan!" exclaimed the captain, "what have you come here for, sir?"
"To shake hands with you, Nicholl, and prevent you killing Barbicane or being killed by him."
"Barbicane!" cried the captain, "I have been looking for him these two hours without finding him! Where is he hiding himself?"
"Nicholl!" said Michel Ardan, "this is not polite! You must always respect your adversary; don't be uneasy; if Barbicane is alive we shall find him, and so much the more easily that if he has not amused himself with protecting birds he must be looking for you too. But when you have found him—and Michel Ardan tells you this—there will be no duel between you."
"Between President Barbicane and me," answered Nicholl gravely, "there is such rivalry that the death of one of us—"
"Come, come!" resumed Michel Ardan, "brave men like you may detest one another, but they respect one another too. You will not fight."
"I shall fight, sir."
"No you won't."