"This time, Henri Dubois," he panted, "I am not drugged and strapped helplessly to a bed. You know why I am here. I have followed you to avenge the stigma you inflicted on my reputation and at the same time to recover the diamonds which you obtained by subterfuge and murder."
The Frenchman was quite collected in manner.
"I murdered no one," he answered. "I could not help the blundering of other people. If I am regretfully compelled to kill you to-day, it is your own fault. I am only acting in self-defence."
"Self-defence!" came the quick retort. "Such men as you are a pest. Like any wild beast you will strive to save your miserable life! But, thank Heaven, you must depend upon your claws. Lying and trickery will avail you no further!"
"How can we fight?" demanded the Frenchman calmly.
"Any way you like, you villain. As man to man if you are able. If not, as dog to dog, for I am going to try and kill you!"
"But you are probably armed, whereas I am defenceless? My revolver, as you saw, was not loaded."
"We are equal in that respect, if in no other," retorted Talbot.
An evil smile lit up the Frenchman's pallid face. He pulled out his knife with a flourish and hissed—