"To the death be it!" was the response of the Irishman, not so calmly,
and now for the first time showing anger. Nor strange he should, since
he now knew he had crossed swords with a man determined on taking his
life.

There was a second or two's pause, of which Santander availed himself,
hastily whipping a handkerchief round his wounded arm--a permission not
strictly according to the code, but tacitly granted by his gallant
antagonist.

When the two again closed and came to guard, the seconds were no longer
by their sides. At the words "_a la mort_" they had withdrawn--each to
the rear of his principal--the mode of action in a duel to the death.
Their _role_ henceforth was simply to look on, with no right of
interference, unless either of the principals should attempt foul play.
This, however, could not well occur. By the phrase "_a la mort_" is
conveyed a peculiar meaning, well-known to the Orleans duellist. When
spoken, it is no longer a question of sword-skill, or who draws first
blood; but a challenge giving free licence to kill--whichever can.

In the present affair it was followed by silence more profound and more
intense than ever, while the attention of the spectators, now including
the seconds, seemed to redouble itself.

The only sound heard was a whistling of wings. The fog had drifted
away, and several large birds were seen circling in the air above,
looking down with stretched necks, as if they, too, felt interested in
the spectacle passing underneath. No doubt they did; for they were
vultures, and could see--whether or not they scented it--that blood was
being spilled.

Once more, also, from the tree tops came the mocking laughter of the
eagle; and out of the depths, through long, shadowy arcades, the
mournful hootings of the great white owl--fit music for such fell
strife.

Disregarding these ominous sounds--each seeming a death-warning in
itself--the combatants had once more closed, again and again crossing
sword-blades with a clash that frightened owl, eagle, and vulture, for
an instant causing them to withhold their vocal accompaniment.

Though now on both sides the contest was carried on with increased
anger, there was not much outward sign of it. On neither any rash
sword-play. If they had lost temper they yet had control over their
weapons; and their guards and points, though perhaps more rapidly
exchanged, displayed as much skill as ever.

Again Kearney felt surprised at the