"Now, Sir, you'll be so good as to observe that you have taken upon you a rather serious responsibility in laying your hand on me," said Longcluse, in a very low tone, coldly and gently. "In France, such a profanation would be followed by an exchange of shots, and here, under other circumstances, I should exact the same chance of retaliation. I mean to deal differently--quite differently. I have fought too many duels, as you know, to be the least apprehensive of being misunderstood or my courage questioned. For your sister's sake, not yours, I take a peculiar course with you. I offer you an alternative; you may have reconciliation--here is my hand" (he extended it)--"or you may abide the other consequence, at which I sha'n't hint, in pretty near futurity. You don't accept my hand?" "No, Sir," said Arden haughtily--more than haughtily, insolently. "I can have no desire to renew an acquaintance with you. I sha'n't do that. I'll fight you, if you like it. I'll go to Boulogne, or wherever you like, and we can have our shot, Sir, whenever you please." "No, if you please--not so fast. You decline my friendship--that offer is over," said Longcluse, lowering his hand resolutely. "I am not going to shoot you--I have not the least notion of that. I shall take, let me see, a different course with you, and I shall obtain on reflection your entire concurrence with the hopes I have no idea of relinquishing. You will probably understand me pretty clearly by-and-by." Richard Arden was angry; he was puzzled; he wished to speak, but could not light quickly on a suitable answer. Longcluse stood for some seconds, smiling his pale sinister smile upon him, and then turned on his heel, and walked quietly out upon the grass, and disappeared in the crowd. Richard Arden was irresolute. He threw open the door, and entered the roulette-room--looked round on all the strange faces, that did not mind him, or seem to see that he was there--then, with a sudden change of mind, he retraced his steps more quickly, and followed Longcluse through the other door. But there he could not trace him. He had quite vanished. Perhaps, next morning, he was glad that he had missed him, and had been compelled to "sleep upon it." Now and then, with a sense of disagreeable uncertainty, recurred to his mind the mysterious intimation, or rather menace, with which he had taken his departure. It was not, however, his business to look up Longcluse. He had himself seemed to intimate that the balance of insult was the other way. If "satisfaction," in the slang of the duellist, was to be looked for, the initiative devolved undoubtedly upon Longcluse. Alice was so placed on the carriage, that she did not see what passed immediately beside it, between Longcluse and her brother. Still, the appearance of this man, and his having accosted her, had agitated her a good deal, and for some hours the unpleasant effect of the little scene spoiled her enjoyment of this day of wonders.