upon Trenck, overwhelming him with blows with
the butts of their muskets and secured him.

Bruised and bleeding he was borne back to his cell.

Major Doo informed Trenck, after this abortive attempt to escape, that he
had been condemned to one year's imprisonment only. That year was within
three weeks of expiring when the infamous major, who was an Italian,
goaded the unfortunate young man into open defiance of his sovereign's
mandate. His pardon was at once annulled and his confinement now became
most rigorous.

Another plot, headed by three officers and several soldiers of the guard,
who were friendly to Trenck, was discovered at the last moment--in time
for the conspirators themselves to escape to Bohemia, but under
circumstances which prevented Baron de Trenck from accompanying them.

This also served to increase the hardships of the prisoner's lot, and he
now found himself deprived of the former companionship of his friends and
surrounded by strangers, the one familiar face remaining being that of
Lieutenant Bach, a Danish officer, a braggart swordsman and ruffler, who
had always been hostile to him.

But, despite his isolation, the energy and strength of Trenck's character
were only augmented by his misfortunes, and he never ceased to plot for
his deliverance. Weeks passed without any fruitful event occurring in the
life of the prisoner, yet help was to come to him from a source from which
he could never have expected it. But before that fortuitous result was
destined to take place--in fact, as preliminary to its achievement--he was
destined to be an actor in the most remarkable scene that ever has been
recorded in the annals of prison life, and in one of the strangest duels
of modern times.

One day Trenck had cast himself fully clothed upon his bed, in order to
obtain a change of position in his cramped place of confinement.
Lieutenant Bach was on duty as his guard.

The young baron had retained in prison the proud and haughty demeanor
which had formerly brought upon him so much censure at court. Lieutenant
Bach's countenance also bore the imprint of incarnate pride.

The two exchanged from time to time glances of insolence; for the rest,
they remained silently smoking, side by side.

Trenck was the first to break the silence, for prisoners grasp every
opportunity for conversation, and at any price.

"It appears to me your hand is wounded, lieutenant," Trenck said. "Have
you found another opportunity