"Jack," says I, as I rejoined him, "you will fight with your back to the door, though there is little difference save that the wall is a trifle lighter there, and will make you less conspicuous." Jack nodded, and with Bentley's aid, began removing his coat and waistcoat. "Dick," says Bentley, in my ear, speaking in a strange, uneven voice, such as I had never heard from his lips before, while Jack busied himself untying his cravat--"Dick, they must not--shall not fight," and I saw that the sweat stood out in great drops upon his brow. "In God's name, Bentley, what's to stop them now?" says I, whereupon he turned away with a strange wringing motion of his hands, and seeing how those hands trembled, I became aware that mine were doing the same. "Be so good as to take your ground, gentlemen," said Captain Hammersley, advancing with the small-swords beneath his arm. Jack stepped forward at once, followed a moment later by Raikes. Each in turn took his weapon, saluted, and fell to his guard. I was just holding the crossed blades and Hammersley had scarce begun the count, when there arose a sudden clamour without, the door was flung open, and Mr. Tawnish stood bowing upon the threshold. "Ah!" says he, tripping forward daintily, in one hand his handkerchief, while with the other he gracefully waved his laced hat, "an affair of honour, I perceive. On my soul now, it gives me real pain to intrude myself thus--it desolates me, positively it does--but, gentlemen, this cannot go on." "Cannot go on--the devil, sir!" broke in the Captain loudly, "and who says so?" "I say so, sir," returned Mr. Tawnish, with his slow smile, "and should you care to hear it, I'll say so again, sir." "On what grounds?" says Hammersley, frowning. "On the grounds that mine is the prior claim to the sword of Sir Harry Raikes." "Bah!" cries Raikes, with a short laugh, "give the count, Hammersley, and we will begin." Mr. Tawnish closed and fobbed his snuff-box. "I think not, sir," says he, very quietly. "Mr. Tawnish," says Jack, "I have waited over a month to fight this gentleman." "Sir John," says Tawnish, bowing, "your pardon, but I have waited even longer--" "Whatever quarrel you may have with me, sir," Raikes broke in, "shall wait my time and pleasure." "I think not," says Mr. Tawnish again, his smile more engaging and his blue eyes more dreamy than ever; "on the contrary, I have a reason here which I venture to hope will make you change your mind." "A reason?" says Raikes, starting as he met the other's look. "What reason?" "That!" says Mr. Tawnish, and tossed something to Sir Harry's feet. Now as it lay there upon the sand, I saw that it was a small gold locket. For maybe a full minute there was a dead silence, while Raikes stared down at the locket, and Mr. Tawnish took a pinch of snuff. "Who gave you this?" says Raikes suddenly, and in a strange voice. Mr. Tawnish flicked-to the enamelled lid of his snuff-box very delicately with one white finger.