rowsing; in the distance cow-bells tinkled, and the
drowsy cowherds followed the cattle, faithful as the shepherds who
tended their flocks on the Judean hills.

Beneath the spreading trees were assembled a group of persons
variously disposed. A little dapper man was bending over a case of
instruments, as merry a soul as ever adjusted a ligature or sewed a
wound. Be-ribboned and be-medaled, the Count de Propriac, acting for
the land baron, and Barnes, who had accompanied the soldier, were
consulting over the weapons, a magnificent pair of rapiers with costly
steel guards, set with initials and a coronet. Member of an ancient
society of France which yet sought to perpetuate the memory of the old
judicial combat and the more modern duel, the count was one of those
persons who think they are in honor bound to bear a challenge, without
questioning the cause, or asking the "color of a reason."

"A superb pair of weapons, count!" observed the doctor, rising.

"Yes," said the person addressed, holding the blade so that the
sunlight ran along the steel; "the same Jacques Legres and I fought
with!"

Here the count smiled in a melancholy manner, which left no doubt
regarding the fate of the hapless Jacques. But after a moment he
supplemented this indubitable assurance by adding specifically:

"The left artery of the left lung!"

"Bless my soul!" commented the medical man. "But what is this head in
gold beneath the guard?"

"Saint Michael, the patron saint of duelists!" answered the count.

"Patron!" exclaimed the doctor. "Well, all I have to say is, it is a
saintless business for Michael."

The count laughed and turned away with a business-like air.

"Are you ready, gentlemen?"

At his words the contestants immediately took their positions. The
land baron, lithe and supple, presented a picture of insolent and
conscious pride, his glance lighted by disdain, but smoldering with
fiercer passions as he examined and tested his blade.

"Engage!" exclaimed the count.

With ill-concealed eagerness, Mauville began a vigorous, although
guarded attack, as if asserting his supremacy, and at the same time
testing his man. The buzzing switch of the steel became angrier; the
weapons glinted and gleamed, intertwining silently and separating with
a swish. The patroon's features glowed; his movements became quicker,
and, executing a rapid parry, he lunged with a thrust so stealthy his
blade was beaten down only as it touched the sol