:--

'It is a mere scratch. I shall go on.'

He refused to go inside to have the wound-dressed. The bald doctor,
after squeezing the small hole, which scarcely bled, and sponging it
with antiseptic lotion, applied a simple piece of lint and said:--

'You may go on now.'

At Casteldieri's invitation, the Baron gave the word without delay for
the third round.

'On guard!'

Sperelli perceived his danger. Directly in front of him stood his
adversary, his knees firmly bent, masked, as it were, behind his rapier,
his whole strength resolutely collected for one supreme effort. His eyes
had a singular glitter, and the calf of his left leg quivered
perceptibly under the excessive tension of the muscles. This time, in
order to avoid the shock of his opponent's impetus, Andrea determined to
throw himself to one side and repeat the thrust which Cassibile had
employed so successfully, the white patch of lint on Rutolo's breast
serving him as a mark. It was there he proposed wounding him again, but,
this time, the rapier should enter the intercostal space and not be
deterred by the rib. The silence all about them deepened, the spectators
felt the homicidal desire that animated the two men, and were seized
with apprehension, their hearts sinking at the thought that doubtless
they would have to carry away a dead or dying man. The sun, veiled by
fleecy cloudlets, shed a milky light over the scene, the trees rustled
fitfully, the thrush sang on invisible.

'Play!'

Rutolo charged his adversary with a double derobe. Sperelli parried and
returned, giving way a step. Rutolo followed up furiously with a rush of
rapid thrusts, nearly all in the low line, without uttering the usual
cries. Sperelli, nothing daunted by this onslaught, and wishing to avoid
an actual hand-to-hand fight, parried vigorously, and returned with such
directness that he might, had he so wished, have run his adversary
through the body each time. Rutolo's leg was bleeding near the groin.

'Halt!' cried Santa Margherita the moment he perceived it.

But in the same instant Sperelli, parrying low quarte and not
encountering his adversary's blade, received a thrust full in the
breast. He fell back into Barbarisi's arms and fainted.

'Wound penetrating the thorax through the fourth intercostal space on
the right side with superficial wound of the lung,' pronounced the
bull-necked surgeon, after his examination in the room to which they had
conveyed the wounded ma