“If I had not been so, the chance is I should have taught you somewhat better manners before this time. Move aside, sir, and let me see the fire.” But the other never budged in the slightest, standing in the same easy posture as before. Daly's dark face grew darker, and his heavy brows met in a deep frown, while, with a spring that showed no touch of time in his strong frame, he bounded forward and seized the man by the collar. Few men were Daly's equals in point of strength; but although he with whom he now grappled made no resistance whatever, Daly never stirred him from the spot, to which he seemed fast and firmly rooted. “Well, that's enough of it!” said the fellow, as with a rough jerk he freed himself from the grasp, and sent Daly several paces back into the room. “Not so!” cried Daly, whose passion now boiled over, and, drawing a pistol from his bosom, he levelled it at him. Quick as the motion was, the other was equally ready, for his hand now presented a similar weapon at Daly's head. “Move aside, or--” A coarse, insulting laugh drowned Daly's words, and he pulled the trigger; but the pistol snapped without exploding. “There it is, now,” cried the fellow, rudely; “luck's against you, old boy, so you 'd better keep yourself cool and easy;” and with these words he uncocked the weapon and replaced it in his bosom. Daly watched the moment, and with a bound placed himself beside him, when, bringing his leg in front, he caught the man round the middle, and hurled him headlong on the ground. He fell as if he had been shot; but, rolling over, he leaned upon his elbow and looked up, without the slightest sign of passion or even excitement on his features. “I 'd know that trip in a thousand; begad, you 're Bagenal Daly, and nobody else!” Although not a little surprised at the recognition, Daly suffered no sign of astonishment to escape him, but drew his chair to the fire, and stretched out his legs before the blaze. Meanwhile, the other, having arisen, leaned over the back of a chair, and stared at him steadfastly. “I am as glad as a hundred-pound note, now, you did n't provoke me to lay a hand on you, Mr. Daly,” said he, slowly, and in a voice not devoid of a touch of feeling; “'t is n't often I bear malice, but I 'd never forgive myself the longest day I 'd live.” Daly turned his eyes towards him, and, for some minutes, they continued to look at each other without speaking. “I see you don't remember me, sir,” said the stranger, at length; “but I 've a better memory, and a better reason to have it besides: you saved my life once.” “Saved your life!” repeated Daly, thoughtfully; “I 've not the slightest recollection of ever having seen you before.”