e than any, shall be there, and I myself will shoot
you. You shall hear the word, my brave Englishman; you shall see the
musket raised, and you shall wait. Ah, yes! you shall have time to
think over and regret your folly. Then, when your knees give way like
those of this cur of a Frenchman, I will shoot you, and your body shall
be flung into the sea. Thus you will learn that it is ill to bring
disgrace on the head of a Stackanoff."

Phil laughed in the man's face and looked at him with steady gaze,
before which the fiery Russian's eyes lowered.

"You call this man a cur," said Phil with a smile, nodding his head at
Pierre. "Believe me, you Russian dog, he is a brave man compared with
you, for he would not murder his fellow-being. If that time comes of
which you have spoken, I will do my best to bear it; and should your
time to face death come first, I trust you may set me an example. I
doubt it though. Bullies, such as you, are ever cowards, and vengeance,
when followed too far, is apt to bring disaster to the avenger. My only
wish is that I could reach your comrades. They have proved themselves
brave and honourable men, and would spit on you."

The Russian's face was an ugly picture. Flushed with hate and rage, he
looked as though he would repeat his former assault. But, standing
upright and sturdy as he did, his head proudly held in air, Phil did not
look a young man to be trifled with, even by one with weapons in his
hands. Moreover, Tony was close alongside, his eyes fixed upon the
Russian's face, and clearly showing that at the slightest attempt he
would treat him less gently than before.

"You defy me and laugh at me," said Stackanoff wrathfully. "Very well,
I will leave you now and visit your friend. But you shall see me again
very soon."

With a snarl of rage he turned on his heel and left the cell.

"What's it all about?" asked Tony eagerly. "This lingo's too much for
me, and how you ever picked it up beats me altogether. Get up, you
sniveller;" and with an angry growl he hoisted Pierre to his feet once
more, for the Frenchman had given way to his fears.

"He's off to McNeil's cell, Tony," Phil answered hurriedly. "I'll tell
you all that passed in good time, but give me a lift into the chimney.
I must hear all that happens."

He sprang to the grate, and, helped by Tony, was soon at the angle.
Breathless with his exertions, he climbed still higher, leaning his body
well over the sharp