"Ah!" said Vétérin, "how unfortunate for you!"
Mansart retreated a few steps, crouching back like a wild beast that has received a wound, which simulates an approaching end, and which holds its remaining strength together waiting for its destroyer to draw near.
"You must acknowledge that it does not look like chance," went on Vétérin, who was cool as ice. "Eighteen to one! Ma foi, it is astonishing." He placed two pistols upon the table.
"Come, monsieur," he exclaimed, suddenly, in a hard, rasping voice. "You will play the man, will you not?"
Mansart appeared unable to reply; perhaps he could not. His look was steadily directed upon the trooper, whose slightest movement he observed with the most intense anxiety.
Vétérin examined the pistols, while he threw more than one furtive glance at the other's passionless face. He pushed a pistol toward Simon. "I think you had better defend yourself," he said. "I am going to hold you to your word," and he stepped back, raising his own weapon.
"Stop!" exclaimed Mansart, in a choked voice. "We do not fight on equal terms."
"What do you mean?"
"You are skilled in the use of your weapon, while I——"
"That is easily remedied." Vétérin suddenly extinguished the candle. He called out, "Take care! I shall fire at the first opportunity."