"His life has been hard, frightfully hard, sir; until the age of ten years so cruel was it that the recital of his sufferings would touch any other heart than yours. From one adventure to another he at last fell into the hands of the Thames pirates, who made a little thief of him, and reared him for a life of shame and crime." "Very much as you reared me." "It is true. I merit the reproach and accept it; but while your evil instincts grew apace, the germ of good developed in your brother. He fled from those who had marked him for wrong-doing, and was received by upright persons.--Ah, you would like to know if he still lives? Do you think me fool enough to deliver him over to your jealousy and suspicions? No. You now know enough of this business to understand that you ought not to remain here an instant longer." "I have listened to you even unto the end with a patience that astonishes me. It would appear from this recital that I am under nameless obligation to you, your _protégé_, your creature. As the king reigns by the grace of God, I am a nobleman by permission of Mons. Lebeau, and if I cease to merit his good opinion, I lose everything! Well," he added, suddenly changing his tone, "I do not care to know how much truth there is in your story, but I do know that this situation is no longer tenable. No such man as I am ought to be at the mercy of a Lebeau, hanging upon his discretion. The surest means of my assuring myself of your silence is to kill you! And kill you I will!" Saying these words, he whipped out his sword and darted upon his former tutor. Esther uttered a feeble cry, but the cry was lost in a frightful crash. A neighboring wall, undermined by the fire, reeled and fell, striking upon the roof of the house. A rafter in falling struck the window and shattered it. A dense, stifling smoke, starred with a myriad sparks, filled the chamber. Meanwhile Lebeau, who had never for an instant lost sight of Mowbray's movements, had darted backward a pace or two, thus placing a table between himself and his adversary, at the same time drawing his sword in his turn. Now they were equally matched. It was he who had first placed a fencing-foil in the young man's hand, he who had taught him with infinite patience all the secrets of the French and Italian schools of fencing. In those very schools had they studied the noble art in company, not disdaining the lessons of resident masters. They had fenced together every day for ten years, but had never succeeded in scratching each other, so easy was it for either to parry the thrusts of the other and to divine his intentions. However, it was necessary that one of these two men, who had lived so long together as master and disciple, almost as father and son, should take the other's life; and each bore written upon his very eyes the fierce desire, the implacable longing, to kill.