on, foolish, possibly, to
play the game a little longer.

"Come along, my friend," she went on. "This is poor sport. I hate a
coward."

For an instant, I feared he would heed her and go--and that would have
obliged me to become the aggressor; which I much preferred not to be.

"A coward!" he laughed--and looked at me. "You hear that, monsieur: a
coward." Then he put his hand on her arm. "You are quite right, my
dear, it is poor sport," he said. "Yet, stay a moment longer. I shall
forego the other cuts and tear off his mask, instead."

"And permit him to wear a sword?" she mocked. "Surely, not! Why don't
you break it?"

"A charming suggestion--thank you.--You hear my Lady's wish, Monsieur
le Coquin," he said to me, and presenting his blade at my breast.
"Will you yield your sword or shall I be obliged to take it from you?"

At last, Lotzen had driven me to action, in pointing his sword at my
breast. If he touched it my steel vest would be disclosed, at once;
and that was not to my mind. It would explain the failure of his
bravo's dagger. More than that I did not care for. Doubtless, he was
wearing one himself at that very moment. One usually ascribes to his
enemy methods similar to one's own--and, as Lotzen dealt in
assassination, he would expect me to do the same.

I waited a moment. Then, stepping quickly out of reach, I drew my own
sword.

"Here it is, my Lord," I said. "Which end will you take?"

"The only end that you can give me, monsieur--the hilt," was the answer.

"Come and get it, then," I drawled.

He turned to the Gypsy.

"Will mademoiselle pardon me," he said.

"Will you be long?" she asked.

"Only a moment. I'll make it very short."

"I'll wait," she said carelessly.

He bowed to her--and then faced me.

"Has Monsieur le Coquin any particular spot in which he prefers to
receive my point?" he asked.

"None, my Lord," I answered; "I shall leave that to your own good
taste."

"_Merci_, monsieur, _merci_!" he said, and saluted. "Yet, I may not be
outdone in generosity. Therefore, in exchange for your hilt, monsieur,
you shall have the whole length of my blade in your heart."

"That, my Lord, is on the Knees of the Gods," I said.

Then our swords fell to talking and our tongues were still.

[Illustration: Then our swords fell to talking in the garden of the
masked ball.]

The turf was free of brush or trees; and, as I have already said, the
illumination was so ar