They both eyed Rust for a moment, without speaking, and then the larger of the two said to his comrade: 'Tim Craig, hand the gentleman a chair.'
'I don't want one,' said Rust abruptly. 'Have you seen Enoch?'
They both shook their heads.
'He'll blow on me, and you, and others.'
The two men looked at him, and then at each other, but said nothing.
'He's set himself up against me—me!' said Rust, his thin lip curling and yet trembling as he spoke.
'He's a dark man, that Enoch,' said Craig, in a low tone. 'There's no good in crossing him, Mr. Rust.'
'Crossing him! crossing him!' exclaimed Rust. 'He has crossed me. Who ever did that, and prospered! Ho! ho! Enoch, Enoch! you mistook your man!'
The two looked anxiously at each other, but did not speak; and although they had the thews and sinews which could have torn the thin form before them to shreds, it seemed as if they both shrank from him with something like fear.
'It has come to the death-struggle between us,' said Rust; 'one or the other must fall.'