They heard the bolts rasp as he shot them home, and the lock click; and they saw him withdraw the key and slip it into his pocket.
The cold smile still played round Joseph's lips as Crispin turned to face them again, and on Joseph's lips did that same smile freeze as he saw him standing there, erect and firm, his drunkenness all vanished, and his eyes keen and fierce; as he heard the ring of his metallic voice: "You lie, Joseph Ashburn.

It was no fair fight.

It was no duel.

It was a foul, murderous stroke you dealt him in the back, thinking to butcher him as you butchered his wife and his babe.

But there is a God, Master Ashburn," he went on in an ever-swelling voice, "and I lived.