vate--the system of scientific defence by using
hands and feet which finds favour with Parisian "sports."

On the whole, Henri Dubois made for a neighbouring wood in a state of
boiling rage at his momentary lapse concerning the revolver, but
conscious that he had many a time extricated himself from a worse fix. A
hundred yards in his rear ran Jack Talbot. The Englishman,
notwithstanding his recent imprisonment, was in better condition than
Dubois. He was a good golf player and cricketer, and although in
physique and weight he did not differ much from the Frenchman, his
muscles were more firmly knit, and his all-round training in athletic
exercises gave him considerable advantage.

Thus they neared the wood, neither man running at his top speed. Both
wished to conserve their energies for the approaching struggle. Talbot
could have come up with his quarry sooner, were it not for the paramount
consideration that he should not be spent with the race at the supreme
moment, whilst Dubois only intended to seek the shelter of the trees
before he faced his opponent. The Frenchman did not want witnesses.

Neither was aware that Brett and the Italian pilot had by this time
reached the place where the two leading carriages were halted in the
roadway. Without wasting a moment the barrister leapt the intervening
ditch and followed the runners across the field, whilst behind him,
eagerly anxious to see the end of this mysterious chase, came the
sailor.

On the edge of the wood Dubois halted and turned to face his pursuer.
Instantly he recognized Talbot, and for the first time in his career a
spasm of fear struck cold upon the Frenchman's heart. In the young
Englishman he recognized the only man who had cause to hate him with an
implacable animosity.

But the unscrupulous adventurer quickly recovered his nerve.

"So it is you who follow me so closely," he cried. "Go back, my friend.
This time I will not tie you on a bed. You are becoming dangerous. Go
back, I tell you!"

And with these words he levelled the revolver at Talbot's breast, for
the latter was now within fifty yards of him. But Jack was animated with
the mad elation of a successful chase, and governed by the fierce
resolve that his betrayer should not escape him. For an instant he
stopped. It was only to pick up a huge stone. Then he ran on again, and,
careless whether Dubois fired or not, he flung the missile at him.

The Frenchman barely succeeded in dodging, as i