Nevertheless, the moment the sister and wife passed from view Julian
sturdily, Lucian feebly, pressed after Hugh and the player. The last
witness was gone; now was their time.
"Mr. Courteney," said Julian. The other two looked back and paused.
Lucian spoke: "Mr. Gilmore, you have my cane, sir."
The player smiled. "Is this really your cane?"
With a ripping oath Julian put in: "What's that to you, you damned
Gypsy? Give him the stick!"
The player let go a stage laugh. Hugh took a step forward with a grave
show of self-command hardly justified. "Mr. Hayle," he said, "you don't
want to be another 'hopeless ass,' do you?"
"Gawd!" Julian rose to his toes and lifted and brought down his cane.
But it never reached its mark. One stride of the actor, one outflash of
arm and staff, foiled the blow, and when a second was turned on him the
cane flew from Julian's hand he knew not how and dropped ten feet away.
He dared not leap after it but faced the skilled fencer, blazing
defiance though fully expectant of the unsheathed dirk. But no dirk was
unsheathed. Lucian, forgetting his feebleness, sprang for the cane and
had dropped to one knee to snatch it up when Hugh set foot on it.
"No!" said Hugh. The convalescent straightened up, his brow dark with an
anguish of chagrin, and before he could find speech Hugh was adding:
"Wait.
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