In a side-glance hazarded I saw the anxiety of Thurot's eye and realised his apprehension. I broke ground, and still, I think, was the bravo's match but for the alarm of Thurot's eye. It confused me so much that I parried widely and gave an opening for a thrust that caught me slightly on the arm, and dyed my shirt-sleeve crimson in a moment. “Halt!” cried Thurot, and put up his arm. I lowered my weapon, thinking the bout over, and again saw murder in Bonnat's eye. He lunged furiously at my chest, missing by a miracle. “_Scélérat!_” cried Thurot, and, in an uncontrollable fury at the action, threw himself upon Bonnat and disarmed him. They glared at each other for a minute, and Thurot finally cast the other's weapon over a hedge. “So much for M. Bonnat!” said he. “This is our valiant gentleman, is it? To stab like an assassin!” “_Oh, malédiction!_” said the other, little abashed, and shrugging his shoulders as he lifted his coat to put it on. “Talking of assassination, I but did the duty of the executioner in his absence, and proposed to kill the man who meditated the same upon the Prince.” “The Prince!” cried Thurot. “Why 'tis the Prince's friend, and saved his life!” “I know nothing about that,” said Bonnat; “but do you think I'd be out here at such a cursed early hour fencing if any other than M. Albany had sent me? _Pardieu!_ the whole of you are in the farce, but I always counted you the Prince's friend, and here you must meddle when I do as I am told to do!” “And you tell me, Jean Bonnat, that you take out my friend to murder him by M. Albany's command?” cried Thurot incredulous. “What the devil else?” replied the bravo. “'Tis true M. Albany only mentioned that M. des Souliers Rouges was an obstruction in the Rue de la Boucherie and asked me to clear him out of Dunkerque, but 'twere a tidier job to clear him altogether. And here is a great pother about an English hog!” I was too busily stanching my wound, that was scarce so serious as it appeared, to join in this dispute, but the allusion to the Prince and the Rue de la Boucherie extremely puzzled me. I turned to Bonnat with a cry for an explanation. “What!” I says, “does his Royal Highness claim any prerogative to the Rue de la Boucherie? I'm unconscious that I ever did either you or him the smallest harm, and if my service--innocent enough as it was--with the priest Hamilton was something to resent, his Highness has already condoned the offence.” “For the sake of my old friend M. le Capitaine here I shall give you one word of advice,” said Bonnat, “and that is, to evacuate Dunkerque as sharply as you may. M. Albany may owe you some obligement, as I've heard him hint himself, but nevertheless your steps will be safer elsewhere than in the Rue de la Boucherie.” “There is far too much of the Rue de la Boucherie about this,” I said, “and I hope no insult is intended to certain friends I have or had there.”