THERE'S ONLY A MINUTE LEFT." "There are plenty of us," said Guerchard; and he went towards the door.
"Funk!" said the Duke scornfully.
Guerchard turned sharply.

"Very well," he said, "I'll stick it out alone." "How rash!" sneered the Duke.
Guerchard ground his teeth.

He was panting; his bloodshot eyes rolled in their sockets; the beads of cold sweat stood out on his forehead.

He came back towards the table on unsteady feet, trembling from head to foot in the last excitation of the nerves.

He kept jerking his head to shake away the mist which kept dimming his eyes.
"At your slightest gesture, at your slightest movement, I'll fire," he said jerkily, and covered the Duke with his revolver.
"I call myself the Duke of Charmerace.