‘What do you seek with me?’ cried Gavrolles, shrilly, ‘I see you are not alone. If monsieur le mari yonder wishes to recede from his bargain, it is too late. As for you, monsieur, I once warned you; and, as we are no longer in England, beware!’
Sutherland smiled. Forster, who looked pale as death, was about to interpose, when the younger man continued: ‘Monsieur Gavrolles, it is precisely because we are no longer in England that I accost you. Once, in London, you did me the honour to express a hope that we might meet on French soil. It was simply to realise that hope that my friend supplied you with money. You came—we followed—you understand?’
Gavrolles shrank back from the powerful figure, and eyed the determined face with baleful hate.
‘I have no quarrel with you. I—I do not know you.’ Before Sutherland could say another word Forster interfered.
‘The man is right. As I said to you from the first—his quarrel is with me. Listen to me, man!’ he continued, facing Gavrolles. ‘I am not a duellist, I know nothing of your weapons, but unless you consent to fight me I shall have you arrested as an extortioner and a thief.
You are still wanted in London, and if you refuse——’
Gavrolles, who had been watching the speaker keenly, and had paid particular attention to his words, answered with a scowl:—
‘With you it is another affair, monsieur. I am at your service.’
‘When?’
‘As soon as you please. I am sorry that we could not end our little disagreement amicably, but since you are determined——’