Look here!"-- and he took up his soft black hat, which he still wore--"here is the mark of one of your bullets! I did not know about it then; I do now, and I decline to shake hands with you." By this time Muller's fury had got the better of him.

"You shall answer for that, you English liar!" he said, at the same time clapping his hand to his belt, in which his hunting-knife was placed.

Thus for a few seconds they stood face to face.

John never flinched or moved.

There he stood, quiet and strong as some old stubby tree, his plain honest face and watchful eye affording a strange contrast to the beautiful but demoniacal countenance of the great Dutchman.