Chichester took a swift, backward step towards the hearth;
wherefore, because of this, and because of the look in Mr. Chichester's
eyes, Barnabas smiled, and, so smiling, kicked the key into a
far corner.
"Come, sir," said he, drawing another chair up to the table,
"be seated!" saying which, Barnabas sat down, and, keeping one
pistol levelled, laid the other within Mr. Chichester's reach.
"They are both loaded, sir," he continued; "but pray assure yourself."
But Mr. Chichester stood where he was, his eyes roving swiftly from
Barnabas to the unlatched window, from that to the door, and so back
again to where Barnabas sat, pale, smiling, and with the heavy
weapon levelled across the narrow table; and as he stood thus,
Mr. Chichester lifted one white hand to his mouth and began to pull
at his lips with twitching fingers.
"Come," repeated Barnabas, "be seated, sir."
But Mr. Chichester yet stood utterly still save for the petulant
action of those nervous, twitching fingers.
"Sir," Barnabas persisted, "sit down, I beg!"
"I'll fight you--here--and now," said Mr. Chichester, speaking in a
strange, muffled tone, "yes--I'll fight you wherever or whenever
you wish, but not--not across a table!"
"I think you will," nodded Barnabas grimly.
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