ourish and hissed--

"Then die yourself, you fool!"

He advanced upon Jack with a murderous look in his face. Talbot awaited
him, and he, too, smiled.

"You are a liar and a coward to the end!" he cried. "But if you had
twenty knives, Henri Dubois, I will kill you!"

At that instant a cold, clear voice rang out among the trees, close
behind the two men.

"Halt!" it cried.

Both men involuntarily paused and turned their eyes to learn whence came
this strange interruption. Brett quietly came a few paces nearer.

He held a revolver, pointed significantly at Dubois' breast.

"Drop that knife," he said, with an icy determination in tone and manner
that sent a cold shiver through his hearer's spine.

"Drop it, or, by God, I will shoot you this instant!"

Dubois felt that the game was up. He flung down the knife and tried even
then to laugh.

"Of course," he sneered, "as I am cornered on all sides I give in."

Brett still advanced until he reached the spot where the knife lay. He
picked it up, and at the same instant lowered the revolver. Then he
observed, with the easy indifference of one who remarks upon the
weather--

"Now you can fight, monsieur. My young friend here is determined to
thrash you, and you richly deserve it. So I will not interfere. But just
one word before you begin. Two can play at the game of bluff. This is
your own pistol. It is, as you know, unloaded."

Dubois' cry of rage at the trick which had been played on him was
smothered by his effort to close with Talbot, who immediately flung
himself upon him with an impetuosity not to be denied.

Luckily for the Englishman he had clutched Dubois before the latter
could attempt any of the expedients of the savate. Nevertheless the
Frenchman sought to defend himself with the frenzy of desperation.

The fight, while it lasted, was fast and furious.

The two men rolled over and over each other on the ground--one striving
to choke the life out of his opponent, the other seeking to rend with
teeth and nails.

This combat of catamounts could not last long.

From the writhing convulsive bodies, locked together in a deadly
struggle, suddenly there came a sharp snap. The Frenchman's right arm
was broken near the wrist.

Then Talbot proceeded to wreak his vengeance on him. Unquestionably he
would have strangled the man had not Brett interfered, for with his left
hand he clutched Dubois' throat, whilst with the right he endeavoured to
demolish his