"I took it," says he, blandly, "from a poor devil who sat shivering in his shirt." "You!" says Raikes, in so low a tone as to be almost a whisper--"you?" "I," returned Mr. Tawnish, with a bow. "Liar!" says Raikes, in the same dangerously suppressed murmur. "As to that," says Mr. Tawnish, shrugging his shoulders, "I will leave you to judge for yourself, sir." With the words, he slipped off his wig and turned his back to us for a moment. When he fronted us again, there stood our highwayman, his restless eyes gleaming evilly through the slits of his half-mask, the mocking smile upon his lips, the same grotesque figure beyond all doubt, despite his silks and laces. "So, my masters," says he, in the same rough, half-jovial tone there was no mistaking, "I says to you, maybe we should meet again, I says, and I've kept my word--such being my natur'--d'ye take me?" There broke from Sir Harry's lips an inarticulate snarl of fury as he leaped forward, but I managed to get between them, and Bentley had wrested the sword from his grasp in an instant. "Damnation!" cries he, quivering with passion, "give us the swords." "Sir," says Mr. Tawnish, bowing to the Captain, "you see, I was right, after all--the gentleman seems positively eager to oblige me." And, having readjusted his wig, he proceeded in his leisurely fashion to remove his coat and high-heeled shoes, and to tuck up his long ruffles. And now, all being ready, the thin, narrow blades rang together. Raikes was too expert a swordsman to let his passion master him a second time, and as the two faced each other there was not a pin to choose betwixt 'em: nay, if anything, Sir Harry would almost seem the better man, what with his superior height and length of limb. There was, too, a certain gleam in his eye, and a confident smile on his lips that I remembered to have seen there the day he killed poor Richards. He opened his attack with a thrust in _tierce_, followed by a _longe_ so swift and well timed that it came nigh ending the matter there and then, but it was parried--heaven knows how--and I heard Jack sigh behind me. Indeed, on this occasion Sir Harry fought with all that impetuosity which, seconded by his incredible quickness of recovery, had rendered him famous. A very dangerous opponent he looked, with his great length of arm; and his face, with its menacing brow and gritted teeth, spoke his purpose more plainly than any words. Mr. Tawnish, on the other hand, preserved his usual serene composure, fencing with a certain airy grace that seemed habitual with him in all things.