"Yes. You’ve come here to blackmail me," replied Boyne; "but you’ll not get a sou out of me. Why should I pay you anything? I don’t know you! I’ve never seen you before in my life!" "But you will be very pleased to settle," snarled the fellow in English. "I shan’t, and if you are not very careful I’ll give you in charge of the police for attempted blackmail." "You swine!" cried Galtier between his teeth. "The same to you, my dear friend—and a size larger; a bigger breed!" laughed Boyne defiantly. Both the man and the girl were silent for a few moments, when the latter suddenly broke out into a torrent of abuse and vituperation. Her companion tried to calm her, but in French she cried loudly: "These people are assassins! I know what I overheard on the night when poor Monsieur Martin died. They killed him! And he was always very good to me—poor M’sieur! Madame is a fiend!" she went on. "I do not want her dirty money. I want to see her pay the penalty which all those who murder should pay!" Boyne saw that his bluff had not succeeded. He had to deal with a very perilous situation. A false step might lead them all to the Old Bailey. The pair had evidently been watching them, and were aware that his wife and Ena were both in the flat. "Well," he laughed harshly, "you both appear to be on the wrong track. Céline has, it seems, suspicions about something which she once overheard. What it was, I do not know, because I wasn’t there; but I tell you, both of you, that as far as I care you can go to the devil! I’ve nothing to ask of you—nothing to fear! "You really mean that—eh?" cried the lank, bony Frenchman. "Certainly I do. Clear out—and now at once, otherwise I’ll call the first constable and give you in charge for attempted blackmail!" said Boyne, standing erect before him. "We’ve had foreign blackmailers here before—lots of them—but we’ve no use for them in London." "But Madame paid me to say nothing," urged Céline. "What Madame did does not concern me in the least," he snapped. "She generously gave you something, I believe, because she considered that she had treated you shabbily. That’s all!" An awkward pause ensued. "Very well," exclaimed Galtier. "We are enemies. Let it be so! "Of course we are enemies!" Boyne cried in a defiant tone that rather nonplussed the Frenchman. "Très bien!" he exclaimed. "Excellent," said the wily Boyne. "Let it be so, as you say. We are enemies. So go back to Upper Brook Street and find madame. Go and try to blackmail her. Meanwhile I shall call the next constable I meet and give you both in charge as undesirable foreigners." The Frenchman, however, only laughed in his face, saying: "Yes, do so, _mon cher ami_! I fancy you would regret such an action. But we are enemies, and at any rate, I intend to see madame, your friend." "You want money, eh?" growled Boyne, as they stood together on the kerb.