"_Merci_, monsieur, _merci_!" he said, and saluted. "Yet, I may not be outdone in generosity. Therefore, in exchange for your hilt, monsieur, you shall have the whole length of my blade in your heart."

"That, my Lord, is on the Knees of the G.o.ds," I said.

Then our swords fell to talking and our tongues were still.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Then our swords fell to talking in the garden of the masked ball.]

The turf was free of brush or trees; and, as I have already said, the illumination was so arranged that, practically, there were no shadows.

The Garden seemed almost as bright as day; indeed, save that the light was white, we might, just as well, have been duelling at noon-tide as at midnight.

It had not been hard to gather, from Lotzen's last remarks to his companion, what sort of a fight he proposed making; and, after the usual preliminary testing of strength, I contented myself with the simplest sort of defence and awaited the main attack.

It seems hardly possible that two men could engage in a combat with rapiers, at such an occasion, and not draw a crowd. There is something peculiarly penetrating about the ring of steel on steel at night. Yet, such was the extent of the grounds and, so retired was our locality, that no strangers were attracted. Almost at the first stroke, however, I heard exclamations from the direction of my companions. In a moment, Courtney came running up, his drawn sword in hand--and the others after him.

I had plenty of use for my eyes with the immediate business in hand; but, as I chanced to be facing them, I had a vision of Courtney--his mask off--leaning forward intently watching the fight. Then, he calmly returned sword and drew back.

I heard the Marquise exclaim: "_Mon Dieu_! Someone is trying to kill His Highness--we must save him!"

But Courtney clapped his hand over her mouth and silenced her. Even in the press of the duel, I think, I smiled.

"Your pardon, my dear Marquise," he said, loudly--so I would hear it, I knew--"His Highness needs no saving."

Then I heard no more--for the Duke a.s.sumed the offensive fiercely and his sword began to move like lightning. And well, indeed, was it, for me, that I had learned something of this gentle game of fence, else had that night been my last on Earth.

Then, of a sudden, from out a sharp rally, came the first strokes of Moore's _coup_. I had been expecting it. I steadied myself to meet it, giving back just a trifle to lead Lotzen to think it was new to me.

He pressed me hotly and, at length, the final position came--the way was open.

"Take it!" he said, savagely--and sent the thrust that should have made good his promise to bury the whole blade in my heart.

But his point never reached me--for, as his sword glided along mine, seemingly unopposed, I caught it exactly as Moore had shown me and wrenched with all the strength of my wrist and arm.

There was a sharp grinding of steel; and then, like a thing alive, the Duke's sword left his hand, sped through the air and settled, thirty feet away, point downward in the turf, where it stuck, quivering and swaying like a reed in the wind.

With a cry of sharp surprise, Lotzen sprang back and watched his sword as it circled and fell. I moved a step toward him. Then, he turned to me.

"It seems, Monsieur le Coquin," he said softly, "that I was in error; and that it is the point of your sword and not the hilt I am to take.

So be it."

He draw himself up to attention, and raised his hand in salute.

"I am waiting," he said calmly.

Ferdinand of Lotzen was, doubtless, a bad lot. Once that night he had given me to a.s.sa.s.sination; and, just now, he himself had deliberately tried to kill me. He deserved no consideration; and, by every law of justification, could I, then and there, have driven my sword into his throat. Maybe I wanted to do it, too. We all are something of the savage at times. And I think he fully expected to die. He had told me frankly he purposed killing me, and he would not look for mercy, himself. The dice had fallen against him. He had lost. And, like a true gambler, he was ready to pay stakes. To give the fellow his due, he was brave; with the sort of bravery that meets death--when it must--with a smiling face and a steady eye.

And, so, for a s.p.a.ce, we stood. He, erect and ready. I, with hand on hip and point advanced.

I heard the gasps of women--a sob or two--and then, the rustle of skirts, followed instantly by Courtney's soft command.

"Stay, madame--the matter is for His Highness only to decide."

Lotzen laughed lightly.

"Strike, man," he said, "or the petticoats will steal me from you."

I stepped back and shot my sword into its sheath.

"Go," I ordered. "I do not want your life. Only, depart this house straightway, and take your bravoes with you. They will have no other opportunity to-night. And, mark you, sir, no further meeting with the Gypsy--now, nor hereafter."

He bowed low. "Monsieur is pleased to be generous," he sneered.

But I gave him my back and, removing my mask, went over to my friends.

The Marquise met me with a perfect gale of apologies. But I laughed them aside, telling her it was I who stood in need of pardon for becoming involved in such a breach of hospitality.

"Your Highness might have been killed," she insisted, woman-like.

"But I wasn't," said I, "so, pray, think no more about it."

Just then, Colonel Moore came up and, seeing us without our masks, he dropped his, also. I watched Mademoiselle d'Essolde's greeting to him.

It was all even he could have wished.

"I think it is about the supper hour," said Lady Vierle. "Let us go in."

I offered her my arm and, masking again, we led the way.

"Will Your Highness tell me something?" she asked immediately. "Did you know your antagonist?"

"I didn't see his face," I evaded.

She looked at me quickly. "Would it be better for me not to know?"

"Yes," said I, "I think it would."

There was, really, no reason why I should shield Lotzen; yet, neither was there any reason to rattle a family skeleton in public, and raise a scandal, which would run the Kingdom over and be the gossip of every Court in Europe.

Then I lifted my mask so she could see my face.

"And, my dear Lady Vierle," I said earnestly, "if you would do me a great favor, you will promise to forget all about this unfortunate incident."

She, too, raised her mask and looked me frankly in the eyes.

"I promise," she said.

And I am sure she will keep her word.

I knew I could leave it to Courtney and Moore to insure the silence of Lady Helen and Mademoiselle d'Essolde.

We lingered at the table until far into the morning. And, if Moore had any fault to find with his neighbor in blue, he was, indeed, a graceless grumbler.