s. The other two were in their shirts; they were
opposite one another, and their swords were in their hands. I could not
doubt the meaning; while love held me idle, anger had lent Fontelles
speed; while I sought to perfect my joy, he had been hot to avenge his
wounded honour. I did not know who were the two that watched unless they
were servants; Fontelles' fierce mood would not stand for the niceties
of etiquette. Now I could recognise the Frenchman's bearing and even see
Carford's face, although distance hid its expression. I was amazed and
at a loss what to do. How could I stop them and by what right? But then
Barbara gave a little sob and whispered:

"My mother lies sick in the house."

It was enough to loose my bound limbs. I sprang forward and set out at a
run. I had not far to go and lost no time; but I would not cry out lest
I might put one off his guard and yet not arrest the other's stroke. For
the steel flashed, and they fought, under the eyes of the quiet
servants. I was near to them now and already wondering how best to
interpose, when, in an instant, the Frenchman lunged, Carford cried out,
his sword dropped from his hand, and he fell heavily on the gravel of
the terrace. The servants rushed forward and knelt down beside him. M.
de Fontelles did not leave his place, but stood, with the point of his
naked sword on the ground, looking at the man who had put an affront on
him and whom he had now chastised. The sudden change that took me from
love's pastimes to a scene so stern deprived me of speech for a moment.
I ran to Fontelles and faced him, panting but saying nothing. He turned
his eyes on me: they were calm, but shone still with the heat of contest
and the sternness of resentment. He raised his sword and pointed with it
towards where Carford lay.

"My lord there," said he, "knew a thing that hurt my honour, and did not
warn me of it. He knew that I was made a tool and did not tell me. He
knew that I was used for base purposes and sought to use me for his own
also. He has his recompense."

Then he stepped across to where the green bank sloped down to the
terrace and, falling on one knee, wiped his blade on the grass.

CHAPTER XXIV

A COMEDY BEFORE THE KING

On the next day but one M. de Fontelles and I took the road for London
together. Carford lay between life and death (for the point had pierced
his lung) at the inn to which we had carried him; he could do no more
harm and occasion us n