ard to answer for."

The tone of Peveril's voice, the fierceness of his eye, and the
manner in which he held the loaded weapon, within a hand's-breadth
of Chiffinch's head, convinced the last there was neither room for
compromise, nor time for trifling. He thrust his hand into a side pocket
of his cloak, and with visible reluctance, produced those papers and
despatches with which Julian had been entrusted by the Countess of
Derby.

"They are five in number," said Julian; "and you have given me only
four. Your life depends on full restitution."

"It escaped from my hand," said Chiffinch, producing the missing
document--"There it is. Now, sir, your pleasure is fulfilled, unless,"
he added sulkily, "you design either murder or farther robbery."

"Base wretch!" said Peveril, withdrawing his pistol, yet keeping a
watchful eye on Chiffinch's motions, "thou art unworthy any honest man's
sword; and yet, if you dare draw your own, as you proposed but now, I am
willing to give you a chance upon fair equality of terms."

"Equality!" said Chiffinch sneeringly; "yes, a proper equality--sword
and pistol against single rapier, and two men upon one, for Chaubert is
no fighter. No sir; I shall seek amends upon some more fitting occasion,
and with more equal weapons."

"By backbiting, or by poison, base pander!" said Julian; "these are thy
means of vengeance. But mark me--I know your vile purpose respecting
a lady who is too worthy that her name should be uttered in such a
worthless ear. Thou hast done me one injury, and thou see'st I have
repaid it. But prosecute this farther villainy, and be assured I will
put thee to death like a foul reptile, whose very slaver is fatal to
humanity. Rely upon this, as if Machiavel had sworn it; for so surely
as you keep your purpose, so surely will I prosecute my revenge.--Follow
me, Lance, and leave him to think on what I have told him."

Lance had, after the first shock, sustained a very easy part in this
recontre; for all he had to do, was to point the butt of his whip, in
the manner of a gun, at the intimidated Frenchman, who, lying on his
back, and gazing at random on the skies, had as little the power or
purpose of resistance, as any pig which had ever come under his own
slaughter-knife.

Summoned by his master from the easy duty of guarding such an
unresisting prisoner, Lance remounted his horse, and they both rode off,
leaving their discomfited antagonists to console themselves for th