"I understand," growled the tiger, as the slaver gathered to his lips--
"you think by that paper to summon some one to your aid."

"Not so--that paper is useless while I live. Look forth--the moonlight
is on the roofs below--can you see where that paper has fallen? On the
ledge of a parapet that your foot could not reach. It faces the window
of a room in which one of my household sleeps; it will meet his eye in
the morning when the shutters are unbarred; and on that paper are writ
these words: 'If I am this night murdered, the murderer is Jasper
Losely,' and the paper is signed by my name. Back, sir--would you doom
yourself to the gibbet?"

Darrell released the dread arm he had arrested, and Losely stared at him,
amazed, bewildered.

Darrell resumed: "And now I tell you plainly that I can accede to no
terms put to me thus. I can sign my hand to no order that you may
dictate, because that would be to sign myself a coward--and my name is
Darrell!"

"Down on your knees, proud man--sign you shall, and on your knees!
I care not now for gold--I care not now a rush for my life. I came here
to humble the man who from first to last has so scornfully humbled me.
--And I will, I will! On your knees--on your knees!"

The robber flung himself forward; but Darrell, whose eye had never
quitted the foe, was prepared for and eluded the rush. Losely, missing
his object, lost his balance, struck against the edge of the table which
partially interposed between himself and his prey, and was only saved
from falling by the close neighbourhood of the wall, on which he came