king down at the little sable-clad figure before
him.

The Terrorist seemed uncertain what to do. Though he was one of
those men whom by the force of their intellect, the strength of their
enthusiasm, the power of their cruelty, had built a new anarchical
France, had overturned a throne and murdered a king, yet now, face to
face with this affected fop, this lazy and debonnair adventurer, he
hesitated--trying in vain to read what was going on behind that low,
smooth forehead or within the depth of those lazy, blue eyes.

He would have given several years of his life at this moment for one
short glimpse into the innermost brain cells of this daring mind, to see
the man start, quiver but for the fraction of a second, betray himself
by a tremor of the eyelid. What counterplan was lurking in Percy
Blakeney's head, as he offered to his opponent the two swords which had
once belonged to Lorenzo Cenci?

Did any thought of foul play, of dark and deadly poisonings linger in
the fastidious mind of this accomplished gentleman?

Surely not!

Chauvelin tried to chide himself for such fears. It seemed madness even
to think of Italian poisons, of the Cencis or the Borgias in the midst
of this brilliantly lighted English drawing-room.

But because he was above all a diplomatist, a fencer with words and with
looks, the envoy of France determined to know, to probe and to read. He
forced himself once more to careless laughter and nonchalance of manner
and schooled his lips to smile up with gentle irony at the good-humoured
face of his arch-enemy.

He tapped one of the swords with his long pointed finger.

"Is this the one you choose, sir?" asked Blakeney.

"Nay! which do you advise, Sir Percy," replied Chauvelin lightly. "Which
of those two blades think you is most like to hold after two hundred
years the poison of the Cenci?"

But Blakeney neither started nor winced. He broke into a laugh, his own
usual pleasant laugh, half shy and somewhat inane, then said in tones of
lively astonishment:

"Zounds! sir, but you are full of surprises.... Faith! I never would
have thought of that....Marvellous, I call it... demmed marvellous....
What say you, gentlemen?... Your Royal Highness, what think you?... Is
not my engaging friend here of a most original turn of mind.... Will you
have this sword or that, Monsieur?... Nay, I must insist--else we shall
weary our friends if we hesitate too long.... This one then, sir, since
you have chose