was apparent. Del Ferice
fenced in the Neapolitan style--his arm straight before him, never
bending from the elbow, making all his play with his wrist, his back
straight, and his knees so much bent that he seemed not more than half
his height. He made his movements short and quick, and relatively few, in
evident fear of tiring himself at the start. To a casual observer his
fence was less graceful than his antagonist's, his lunges less daring,
his parries less brilliant. But as the old Prince watched him he saw that
the point of his foil advanced and retreated in a perfectly straight
line, and in parrying described the smallest circle possible, while his
cold watery blue eye was fixed steadily upon his antagonist; old
Saracinesca ground his teeth, for he saw that the man was a most
accomplished swordsman.

Giovanni fought with the air of one who defended himself, without much
thought of attack. He did not bend so low as Del Ferice, his arm doubled
a little before his lunge, and his foil occasionally made a wide circle
in the air. He seemed careless, but in strength and elasticity he was far
superior to his enemy, and could perhaps afford to trust to these
advantages, when a man like Del Ferice was obliged to employ his whole
skill and science.

They had been fencing for more than two minutes, without any apparent
result, when Giovanni seemed suddenly to change his tactics. He lowered
the point of his weapon a little, and, keeping it straight before him,
began to press more closely upon his antagonist. Del Ferice kept his arm
at full length, and broke ground for a yard or two, making clever feints
in carte at Giovanni's body, with the object of stopping his advance. But
Giovanni pressed him, and suddenly made a peculiar movement with his
foil, bringing it in contact with his enemy's along its length.

"Halt!" cried Casalverde. Both men lowered their weapons instantly, and
the seconds sprang forward and touched their swords between them.
Giovanni bit his lip angrily.

"Why 'halt'?" asked the Prince, sharply. "Neither is touched."

"My principal's shoe-string is untied," answered Casalverde, calmly. It
was true. "He might easily trip and fall," explained Del Ferice's friend,
bending down and proceeding to tie the silk ribbon. The Prince shrugged
his shoulders, and retired with Giovanni a few steps back.

"Giovanni," he said, in a voice trembling with emotion, "if you are not
more careful, he will do you a mischief. F