e wrist, and the red drops ran down over his lace
wristband. But she felt no pain and she fought like a tigress against
his hold; so far she had uttered no sound, but now her voice rang out.

'Coward!' she cried suddenly, and with one mad wrench she had her hands
at his throat, and her strong little fingers were almost crushing his
windpipe.

He could not hold her now, for she was strangling him; to free himself
he let go of her waist and caught at her wrists to tear her hands away.
But her strength was like a strong man's in that moment, and he could
not loosen her hold.

He felt that in another moment she would have strangled him outright,
for his eyes were already starting from his head, and the room swam.
With furious violence he twisted himself sideways and tried to hurl her
from him. Even then she did not loosen her desperate grip, but as he
swung her and himself half round, her head struck the wall of the room.
Then her hands relaxed instantly, and as he reeled backwards in
regaining his balance, he saw her sink to the floor, stunned and
unconscious.

[Illustration: 'Trombin advanced upon him slowly, looking more like an
avenging demon than a man']

A crash like thunder broke upon the moment's silence that followed. The
window opposite the table was wide open and shattered, the frame and
shutters split to matchwood, the glass in splinters, and, almost as Don
Alberto started and turned round, Trombin sprang into the room hatless,
with his long rapier in his hand, his round blue eyes wide open and
glaring like a wild cat's, his pink cheeks fiery red, and his long
yellow hair streaming out from his head like a mane.

At this terrific and most unexpected vision, young Altieri staggered
back towards the locked door. Trombin advanced upon him slowly, sword in
hand, till he was within three paces, looking more like an avenging
demon than a man. Yet when he spoke his voice was calm and steady.

'If it is agreeable to you to draw, sir,' he said, 'I will do you the
honour of killing you like a gentleman. If, on the other hand, as I
gather from your attitude, you do not think the moment propitious for
fighting, I will throw you out of the window as I would a lackey who
insulted a lady, sir. Pray choose quickly, sir, before I have counted
three, sir, for I am in haste. One--two--three!'

The last word was scarcely out of his mouth when Trombin dashed forward,
and, dropping his rapier at the same time, threw his arms