.

Not that my adversary took the trouble to ascertain. He was looking at
me strangely in the electric light, standing intently on his guard,
his right hand in the pocket where he had dropped his revolver. And
I--I hardly knew it--but I caught up the first thing handy for
self-defence, and was brandishing the bottle which Raffles and I had
emptied in honor of my arrival on this fatal scene.

"Be shot if I don't believe you're the man himself!" cried the
colonel, shaking an armed fist in my face. "You young wolf in sheep's
clothing! Been at my wine, of course! Put down that bottle; down with
it this instant, or I'll drill a tunnel through your middle. I thought
so! Begad, sir, you shall pay for this! Don't you give me an excuse
for potting you now, or I'll jump at the chance! My last bottle of
'84--you miserable blackguard--you unutterable beast!"

He had browbeaten me into his own chair in his own corner; he was
standing over me, empty bottle in one hand, revolver in the other, and
murder itself in the purple puckers of his raging face. His language I
will not even pretend to indicate: his skinny throat swelled and
trembled with the monstrous volleys. He could smile at my appearance
in his wife's clothes; he would have had my blood for the last bottle
of his best champagne. His eyes were not hidden now; they needed no
eyeglass to prop them open; large with fury, they started from the
livid mask. I watched nothing else. I could not understand why they
should start out as they did. I did not try. I say I watched nothing
else--until I saw the face of Raffles over the unfortunate officer's
shoulder.

Raffles had crept in unheard while our altercation was at its height,
had watched his opportunity, and stolen on his man unobserved by
either of us. While my own attention was completely engrossed, he had
seized the colonel's pistol-hand and twisted it behind the colonel's
back until his eyes bulged out as I have endeavored to describe. But
the fighting man had some fight in him still; and scarcely had I
grasped the situation when he hit out venomously behind with the
bottle, which was smashed to bits on Raffles's shin. Then I threw my
strength into the scale; and before many minutes we had our officer
gagged and bound in his chair. But it was not one of our bloodless
victories. Raffles had been cut to the bone by the broken glass; his
leg bled wherever he limped; and the fierce eyes of the bound man
followed the wet trail