o? What answer will they make to the proposed
peaceful compromise? All eyes are turned on them, awaiting it.

De Lara speaks first, his eyes flashing fire. Hitherto he has been
holding his anger in check, but now it breaks out, poured forth like
lava from a burning mountain.

"_Carajo_!" he cries. "I've been listening a long time to talk--taking
it too coolly. Idle talk, all of it; yours, Mr Striker, especially.
What care we about your ways in the Australian bush. They won't hold
good here, or with me. My style of settling disputes is this, or this."
He touches his pistol-butt, and then the hilt of _machete_, hanging by
his side, adding, "Mr Blew can have his choice."

"All right!" retorts the ex-man-o'-war's man. "I'm good for a bout with
eyther, and don't care a toss which. Pistols at six paces, or my
cutlass against that straight blade o' yours. Both if you like."

"Both be it. That's best, and will make the end sure. Get ready, and
quick. For, sure as I stand here, I intend killing you!"

"Say, you intend tryin'. I'm ready to give you the chance. You can
begin, soon's you feel disposed."

"And I'm ready for _you_, sir," says Davis, confronting Hernandez.
"Knives, pistols, tomahawks--anything you like."

Hernandez hangs back, as though he would rather decline this combat _a
outrance_.

"No, Bill!" interposes Striker; "one fight at a time. When Blew an'
Gomez hev got through wi' theirs, then you can gi'e t'other his change--
if so be he care to hev it."

"T'other" appears gratified with Striker's speech, disregarding the
innuendo. He had no thought it would come to this, and now looks as if
he would surrender up his sweetheart without striking a blow. He makes
no rejoinder; but shrinks back, cowed-like and craven.

"Yes; one fight at a time!" cry others, endorsing the dictum of Striker.

It is the demand of the majority, and the minority concedes it. All
know it is to be a duel to the death. A glance at the antagonists--at
their angry eyes and determined attitudes--makes this sure. On that
lonely shore one of the two, if not both, will sleep his last sleep!

CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN.

A DUEL ADJOURNED.

The combat, now declared inevitable, its preliminaries are speedily
arranged. Under the circumstances, and between such adversaries, the
punctilios of ceremony are slight. For theirs is the rough code of
honour common to robbers of all countries and climes.

No seconds are chosen