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 hope I shall never have occasion to say any thing to you or to see you again. You certainly know why, as well as I do. Good-night."

His manner and words did what he boldly undertook. Before there could be a battle, war must be declared.

It was declared. "Mr. Hilliard" leaned forward, and retorted, "Look here, Touchtone! You'd better not make things harder for yourself. I will have a talk with you. It's what I'm here for. Is Saxton's boy in your state-room? Well, it makes no difference; I can go there with you, and he can hear all I have to say, for that matter."

As it happened, "Mr. Hilliard" would have most assuredly preferred not to have Gerald a listener. But he chose to give Philip another idea.

"Or else," he continued, "do you meet me aft, outside—where the pile of stools is. You know the place. It's dark there. No one will bother us. Which suits you?"

The waiter was appearing with the ice-water.

"I will meet you outside," Philip answered. With an undaunted gaze into his foe's face