He rose, and waddled down the path. Rudolph saw Chantel turn, frowning,
then nod and smile. The nod was courteous, the smile full of satire. The
fat ambassador returned.

"Right-oh," he puffed, tugging from the baize cover a shining pair of
bell-hilted swords. "Here, try 'em out." His puffy eyes turned furtively
toward Rudolph. "May be bad form, Hackh, but--we all wish you luck, I
fancy." Then, in a burst of candor, "Wish that unspeakable ass felt as
seedy as I do--heat-stroke--drop dead--that sort of thing."

Still grumbling treason, this strange second rejoined his principal.

"Jackets off," commanded Heywood; and in their cinglets, each with sword
under arm, the two friends took shelter behind a ragged clump of
plantains. The yellow leaves, half dead with drought and blight, hung
ponderous as torn strips of sheet metal in the lifeless air.

Behind this tattered screen, Rudolph studied, for a moment, the lethal
object in his hand. It was very graceful,--the tapering, three-cornered
blade, with shallow grooves in which blood was soon to run, the silver
hilt where his enemy's father had set, in florid letters, the name of
"H.B. St. A. Chantel," and a date. How long ago, he thought, the steel
was forged for this day.

"It is Fate." He looked up sadly. "Come, show me how to begin; so that I
can stand up to him."

"Here, then." Slowly, easily, his long limbs transformed with a sudden
youthful grace, Heywood moved through the seven positions of On
Guard. "Try it."

Rudolph learned only that his own clumsy imitation was hopeless.

"Once more.--He can't see us."

Again and again, more and more rapidly, they performed the motions of
this odd rehearsal. Suddenly Heywood stepped back, and lowering his
point, looked into his pupil's face, long and earnestly.

"For the last time," he said: "won't you let me tell him? This is
extremely silly."

Rudolph hung his head, like a stubborn child.

"Do you still think," he answered coldly, "that I would beg off?"

With a hopeless gesture of impatience, Heywood stepped forward briskly.
"Very well, then. Once more." And as their blades clashed softly
together, a quick light danced in his eyes. "Here's how our friend will
stick you!" His point cut a swift little circle, and sped home. By a
wild instinct, the novice beat it awkwardly aside. His friend laughed,
poised again, disengaged again, but in mid-career of this heartless
play, stumbled and came pitching forward. Rudolp