CHAPTER XXI.
HOW A FRENCHMAN SETTLES AN AFFAIR.
Whilst the duel was being discussed between the president and the captain--a terrible and savage duel in which each adversary became a man-hunter--Michel Ardan was resting after the fatigues of his triumph.
Resting is evidently not the right expression, for American beds rival in hardness tables of marble or granite.
Ardan slept badly, turning over and over between the _serviettes_ that served him for sheets, and he was thinking of installing a more comfortable bed in his projectile when a violent noise startled him from his slumbers.

Thundering blows shook his door.

They seemed to be administered with an iron instrument.

Shouts were heard in this racket, rather too early to be agreeable.
"Open!" some one cried.

"Open, for Heaven's sake!" There was no reason why Ardan should acquiesce in so peremptory a demand.