He and Dillon placed two chairs there also, and were engaged in conversation when a sudden lull in the buzz of talk caused them to look up.
Captain Muller had just entered the saloon with a friend, and the lull was caused by curiosity.

As his boast had been the matter of public talk; and as all noticed that two officers of the 5th were present, it was anticipated that a scene would ensue.
A glance at Dillon's face showed that the blood had left his cheek; for, brave as the Irishman was, the prospect of being killed like a dog by this native swordsman could not but be terrible to him, and he did not doubt for a moment that he would be selected.

Captain Muller walked leisurely up to the bar, drank off a bumper of raw Geneva, and then turned and looked round the room.

As his eyes fell on the uniform of the 5th, a look of satisfaction came over his face, and fixing his eyes on Dillon, he walked leisurely across the room.
Rupert happened to be sitting on the outside of the table, and he at once rose and as calmly advanced towards the German.
There was now a dead silence in the room, and all listened intently to hear what the lad had to say to the duellist.

Rupert spoke first; and although he did not raise his voice in the slightest, not a sound was lost from one end of the room to the other.
"Captain Muller," he said, "I hear that you have made a boast that you will kill the first officer of my regiment whom you met.