He flung off his coat, saying: "Choose ze weapon, saire." Frank did not pause to look them over in making a selection.

He caught up one of them and drew it from the scabbard.
Montfort took the other.
"Ready ?" cried the American youth.
"Ready!" answered the Frenchman.
Clash!--the swords came together and there on the deck of the burning steamer the strange duel began.
Frank fought with all the coolness and skill he could command.

He fought as if he had been standing on solid ground instead of the deck of a ship that might be blown into a thousand fragments at any moment.
The Frenchman had fancied that the Yankee would prove easy to conquer, but he soon discovered Frank possessed no little skill, and he saw that he must do his best.
More than once Montfort thrust to run Frank through the body, and once his sword passed between the youth's left arm and his side.
Merry saw that the Frenchman really meant to kill him if possible.
Then men were getting into the boat.

There were but few seconds left in which to finish the duel.

Rattleton called to him from the, boat, shouting above the roar of the wind: "Finish him, Frank! Come on, now! Lively!" The tip of Montfort's sword slit Frank's sleeve and touched his arm.
"Next time I get you!" hissed the vindictive Frenchman.
But right then Frank saw his opportunity.