De Rothan's face looked stormy. The light, insolent humour had left him. He was up against grim weapons and grim men.
"Shoot away, my little fellow; my own pistol is empty."
As he spoke, he tossed the empty pistol aside upon the grass. Jeremy's eyes glittered maliciously.
"I do not shoot women and unarmed men, sir. Even a cur may be given a chance to fight. You have your sword there."
De Rothan bowed to him.
"It is at your service, sir, if you are not afraid."
"Psst, I know that sort of lingo. I am not a raw boy, my friend. I don't deal in words."
Meanwhile Jasper had lifted Nance to her feet, and was standing with his arm about her, and looking down into her face. Her eyes glimmered in the moonlight, soft, dusky eyes that were full of infinite and mysterious things.
"Dear heart, what you have suffered!"
"And you!"