ther your coolness nor your cowardice--for the quality goes by either
name--can avail you here. I must and I will have reparation."

"Until I am aware of the injury,--until you tell me how or in what I
have wronged you--"

"How shall I teach you a lesson of honor; sir," cried Norwood, boiling
over with rage, "so that you may comprehend, even for a moment, the
feeling of a gentleman? You cannot affect ignorance as to who and what
is the woman that sat there. You need not drive me to the indignity of
calling her my wife! You know it well, and you knew all the disgrace you
were heaping on a class who rejected your intimacy. None of this mock
surprise, sir! If you compel me to it, I 'll fling open that door, call
all your household around you, and before them I 'll insult you, so that
even your serf-blood will rebel against the outrage."

"This is madness,----downright insanity, my Lord," said Midchekoff,
rising and moving towards the bell.

"Not so, sir," said Norwood, interposing. "My passion is now mastered.
You shall not escape on that pretence. There are my pistols; only one of
them is loaded; take your choice, for I see that outside of this room I
shall seek in vain for satisfaction."

"This would be a murder."

"It shall be, by Heaven, if you delay!" cried Norwood. "I have the right
and the will to shoot you like a dog. If there be no honor, is there
not even some manhood in your heart? Take your weapon; you hesitate
still,--take that, then!" And he struck him with his open hand across
the face.

[Illustration: 419]

Midchekoff snatched the pistol convulsively, and, placing the muzzle on
Norwood's breast, fired. With a wild cry he staggered and fell dead upon
the floor. The Prince flung open the door, and rang the bell violently.
In a moment the room was filled with servants. "Send Jocasse here,"
said Midchekoff; and his chief secretary entered in all haste and
trepidation. "This is an affair for the police, Jocasse," said the
Prince, coolly. "Send for the brigadier, and let him come to my room."

"Suicide shows a great _manque de savoir vivre_," said Haggerstone, as
the news of the event was circulated through Florence. And the _mot_
survived the memory of its victim.

CHAPTER XXXI. THE SUMMONS.

They who only knew Vienna in its days of splendor and magnificence could
scarcely have recognized that city as it appeared on the conclusion of
the great revolt which had just convulsed the Empire. The gr