"Two can play at that game," said Galton; but he turned pale at the prospect of the pastime.
Griffith strode towards him, black with ire.
Then Galton stammered out,—
"It was Neville himself told me."
"Ah!" said Griffith; "I thought so. He is a liar, and a coward."
"I would not advise you to tell him so," said the other, maliciously. "He has killed his man in France: spitted him like a lark."
Griffith replied by a smile of contempt.
"Where is the man?" said he, after a pause.
"How should I know?" asked Galton, innocently.
"Where did you leave him five minutes ago?"