Æsop grinned malignly. "It would suit my purpose," he said, "to get you out of the way in any place in the world." Lagardere laughed softly and shook his head. "One or other of us has to be got out of the way," he said, quietly, "but I think, Master Æsop, that I am not the man. I have been waiting a long time for this chance; but I always felt sure that the time would bring the chance, and I mean to make an end of you." Æsop scowled. "You talk very big, Little Parisian," he said, "but you will find that in me you deal with a fellow of another temper to those poor hirelings you have been lucky enough to kill. They were common rogues enough, that handled their swords like broom-handles. I was always a master, and my skill has grown more perfect since we last met at Caylus. I think you will regret this meeting, Captain Lagardere." Now, Lagardere had been listening very patiently while Æsop spoke, and while he listened a thought came into his mind which at first seemed too fantastic for consideration, but which grew more tempting and more entertainable with every second. To thrust Æsop from his path was one thing, and a thing that must be done if Lagardere's life-purposes were to be accomplished. But to get rid of Æsop and yet to use him--at once to obliterate him and yet to recreate him, so that he should prove the most deadly enemy of the base cause that he was paid to serve--here was a scheme, a dream, that if it could be made a reality would be fruitful of good uses. It was therefore with a strange smile that he listened while Æsop menaced him with regret for the meeting, and it was with a strange smile that he spoke: "I do not think so," he answered, maturing his plan even while he talked, and finding it the more feasible and the more pleasing. "You are a haggard rascal, Master Æsop, and the world should have no use for you. I believe that by what I am about to do I shall render the world and France and myself a service. You are nothing more than a rabid wild beast, and it is well to be quit of you." As he spoke he drew his sword and came on guard. Something in the composed manner and the mocking speech of Lagardere seemed to bid Æsop pause. He let his weapon remain in its sheath and began to parley.