"We have here," continued Zabern, "the six best fencers in Czernova after the duke. If you can defeat any of these we shall be able to form some notion as to how he would have fared at your hands."

The six champions in order of merit were adjudged as follows:--Firstly, Zabern, the Warden of the Charter; secondly, Miroslav, the governor of the Citadel; next, Dorislas, the Minister of Finance; then Count Radzivil, the Premier; Brunowski, the President of the Diet, followed; and, lastly, came Nikita the trooper.

"And," whispered Zabern to Paul, "if we were to choose a seventh it would not be a man but a woman, and she none other than Katina."

Paul bowed to the six men, and expressed his readiness to meet in fencing-bout any one of the number, or all in turn; and taking up a fencing-blade, a blunt sabre with its point topped by a b.u.t.ton, he stood prepared to make good his words.

Across the middle of the hall upon the oaken flooring ran a silver line to which the opposing fencers were required to apply their right foot; they might step over this mark if they chose, but to recede from it by so little as an inch was counted for defeat.

As Paul declined to nominate an antagonist there was a slight argument on the part of the six as to the one who should first respond.

After some hesitation Count Radzivil stepped forward. "I fear I am too highly appraised," he modestly remarked, "when I am placed among the seven best fencers in Czernova."

All drew near to witness the contest. A double ring was immediately formed, the ladies being seated in a circle with the gentlemen standing in their rear, the placing of the chairs having naturally afforded opportunity for some pretty pieces of gallantry.

Paul was secretly conscious that though Zabern with Katina and Juliska might regard him favorably, he did not possess the sympathy of the rest of the persons present, who resented the unaccountable act of their princess in appointing as her secretary one who was not only a foreigner but a complete stranger to the princ.i.p.ality. Were there no loyal Czernovese from whom her choice might have been made?

Paul knew, too, that among those who stood around were some who bore the proudest names in Polish history; he himself had neither t.i.tle nor long genealogy, but if there be an order of n.o.bility founded upon superiority in swordsmanship he determined to show that he was a member of that order, and that it would not be well for any man to put a slight upon him, because of the favor shown him by the princess.

On finding himself engaged in a contest with the premier Paul felt some mortification at being pitted against one so aged; but a few moments' play convinced him that Radzivil's arm had lost little of its youthful strength, or of its suppleness and dexterity. Paul, however, was decidedly the superior; and, within the s.p.a.ce of five minutes he succeeded in disarming the count, whose blade flying through the air would have struck Katina, had she not adroitly warded it off with her own fencing-foil.

Zabern, who had watched Paul with eyes that had hardly winked once, seemed pleased with the result.

"An accident!" commented Dorislas, really believing the premier to have been the superior of the two.

He himself was the next to engage, and again Zabern watched every motion of Paul with unwinking eyes.

As a swordsman Dorislas excelled Radzivil; but, heated with a desire to vindicate the honor of Czernova, which he conceived had suffered at the hands of the premier, he became rash, was more disposed to attack than to guard, and the second contest terminated in less time than the first by the b.u.t.ton of Paul's sabre coming full tilt against the breast of the Finance Minister.

"Fairly pinked!" said Zabern, evidently more pleased than before. "No accident this time."

The expression of surprise and bewilderment on the face of Dorislas at a result so little antic.i.p.ated by himself was so comically pathetic that the spectators could not refrain from laughter.

"You were a dead man, Dorislas, had that been a real duel," they cried.

Paul was beginning to rise in their esteem.

Miroslav next ventured to try his hand, and once more Zabern became so attentive that one might almost have fancied his own life hung upon the issue.

Profiting by the lesson of Dorislas' rashness the governor of the Citadel commenced in a spirit of coolness and watchfulness,--a spirit that quickly evaporated when he found himself met at every point. He gave more trouble than his predecessors, but in the end Paul succeeded in twisting the weapon from his hand.

Zabern's pleasure increased.

"Good luck, not science," cried Miroslav, hotly, "I defy you to repeat that trick, Captain Woodville. I must have a second bout."

This demand was not allowed by Zabern, though Paul himself good-naturedly offered to grant it.

"Miroslav seems in savage mood to-day," whispered a fair lady to the cavalier who was bending over her.

"He suffered a prisoner to escape yesterday," replied her partner, "and as a consequence he had a _mauvais quart d'heure_ with the princess this morning. _Hinc illae lacrimae._"

"Captain Woodville ought now to give his arm a rest," cried Katina.

But Paul, perceiving the favorable impression that he was making, expressed his readiness to proceed without delay.

"I am now to be your opponent," said Zabern, taking up a fencing-blade in his left and only hand, "and I warn you, Captain Woodville, to be careful."

This caution was not without its need. Zabern was considered by those best qualified to judge the second swordsman in Czernova, and Paul quickly found that he had met an opponent nearly equal, if not equal, to himself. The marshal had an arm of steel; as a warrior who had faced the charge of bayonets on many a battle-field he was not likely to become nervous in a mock-contest. Cool and wary, after a few preliminary pa.s.ses designed to test the other's skill, Zabern seemed content to remain for the most part on the defensive, watching his opportunity. Paul, conscious of the marshal's dexterity, was disposed to do the same; and hence this fourth bout appeared somewhat tame when contrasted with the spirited and dashing style of the preceding contests. It promised to prove indefinitely long, till on a sudden Zabern cried,--

"Hold, I have felt enough to know that I am your inferior, and as such, Captain Woodville, I lower my sword to you."

Which he did in graceful fashion, and, oddly enough, seeming to be extremely pleased over this acknowledgment of defeat.

"You would not have to make such confession, marshal," said Paul, "if you could recover the good hand you left behind in Russia."

He turned to glance at his two remaining opponents,--Brunowski and Nikita.

"If the marshal, the best of us all, admits himself beaten," said the President of the Diet, "of what use is it for me to try?"

The trooper murmured something to the like effect.

"Give me leave," said Paul, "to retire from this silver line and to move about freely, and I will meet my two remaining opponents together."

"That were to take an unfair advantage of a man," said Brunowski, resenting Paul's proposal as a slight upon his swordsmanship.

"Fair or unfair," growled Zabern, "step forward, both of you, and let us see whether Captain Woodville can do it. If you deem his word a boast, prove it to be such."

The ladies, too, curiously eager to witness fresh proofs of Paul's skill, added their voices to Zabern's, and thus adjured the two men came forward and faced Paul.

As plenty of s.p.a.ce would be required for the coming bout, the ladies arose, the chairs were removed, and a wide circuit formed.

"A thousand roubles to a hundred that the Englishman succeeds," said Zabern to Dorislas, who seeing confidence written large on the marshal's face, declined the wager.

This fifth contest formed a brilliant finale.

Smarting under what they considered contemptuous disparagement, and eager to punish the vanity of the Englishman, Brunowski and Nikita pressed hard upon Paul. Each was no mean fencer, though much inferior to Zabern, and Paul was quickly compelled to retreat from the silver line upon which he had at first planted himself. The previous work seemed child's play when compared with this. The interchange of cut and thrust was so swift that the eyes of the spectators failed to follow the dazzling motions of the weapons. Despite their endeavors the two men failed to touch Paul, who at last saw his opportunity.

With one powerful stroke he shivered Nikita's blade to fragments, and almost simultaneously he planted the b.u.t.ton of his sabre upon Brunowski's breast.

The members of the a.s.sembly looked at one another in breathless wonder. Among a people who, like the Czernovese, retain much of the spirit of the feudal age, he is most in esteem who is best able to defend himself. In one sense, therefore, Paul was the foremost man in the princ.i.p.ality. The resentment previously felt against him had now changed to unalloyed admiration.

"Such swordsmanship was never seen in Czernova," cried Juliska.

"Ten thousand devils!" muttered Zabern to himself. "Why did her Highness intervene in the duel yesterday?"

And then aloud he added,--

"Ladies and lords, we must all admit that his grace of Bora has much reason to be grateful to the princess."