A quick step caused him to turn round. "Are you?" asked a voice. It was Harkaway, who, standing in the doorway, had been a silent spectator of the scene. Lord Maltravers folded his arms. "I am ready to answer you, or any one else," he said. The two men regarded one another sternly. CHAPTER II. "THE DUEL ON THE SANDS." Jack Harkaway was afraid of no man living, and though averse to quarreling, he always supported his friends. "You have committed a gross outrage on Mr. Mole!" he exclaimed; "and in his name, I demand an apology." "Indeed!" sneered Maltravers. "And what is more, I mean to have it." "Is that so?" "Apologize, my lord, or something may--nay, will assuredly happen which both of us will have cause to regret." "You want, sir, what I do not feel inclined to give you," replied Maltravers. "I am not in the habit of apologizing to a gentleman, and should not think of doing so to _you_." "That is as much as to say that I am not a gentleman," exclaimed Jack, the hot blood rushing in a crimson tide to his face. "You are perfectly at liberty to place whatever construction you like on my words, sir." Simpkins smiled approval in his usual insipid manner. "Bravo!" he lisped. "Very fine, indeed." "I ask you once more," said Jack, "if you will make the _amende honorable_ to my friend?" "And I distinctly refuse to do so." "In that case I shall chastise you, as I would any yelping cur which annoyed me in the street. Mind yourself, my lord," Jack exclaimed. He raised his fist and dealt Maltravers a blow which the other vainly endeavored to ward off. His lordship fell heavily against the wall and the blood flowed from a cut in his face, which extended the whole length of the right cheek. "Good heavens!" said Simpkins. "The man is a butcher. He has marked you for life, Maltravers." The latter applied a silk handkerchief to his hurt, withdrawing it covered with the hot blood. "Coward!" he exclaimed. "You struck me with a ring on your finger." "Served you right," said Mr. Mole. "I wish he had given you more of it. This will teach you not to insult an old man, who never did you any harm." "I am not talking to you, imbecile," hissed Maltravers. He turned to his toady: "Give me your arm, Simpkins," he added. "With all the pleasure in life," was the reply. "You shall hear from me, Mr. Harkaway," continued Maltravers. "Whenever you please," answered Jack, carelessly. "I presume you will not refuse me the satisfaction of a gentleman." "You can rely upon me." His lordship bowed stiffly, and, still holding the handkerchief to the cut, from which the blood trickled slowly, left the room. "Am I much hurt, Simpkins?" he asked. "Cut all to pieces." "Shall I be disfigured?" "You will always have a scar, I fear," replied Simpkins. "Curse that fellow!" cried Maltravers, between his clenched teeth, "he shall pay a terrible reckoning for this." "Why didn't you hit him back again?"