th the poniard. But Tignonville retired his right foot
nimbly, which brought them front to front again. And the younger man
laughed.

"Try again, M. le Comte!" he said. And, with the word, he dashed in
himself quick as light; for a second the blades ground on one another,
the daggers hovered, the two suffused faces glared into one another; then
the pair disengaged again.

The blood trickled from a scratch on Count Hannibal's neck; half an inch
to the right and the point had found his throat. And Tignonville,
elated, laughed anew, and swaying from side to side on his hips, watched
with growing confidence for a second chance. Lithe as one of the
leopards Charles kept at the Louvre, he stooped lower and lower, and more
and more with each moment took the attitude of the assailant, watching
for an opening; while Count Hannibal, his face dark and his eyes
vigilant, stood increasingly on the defence. The light was waning a
little, the wicks of the candles were burning long; but neither noticed
it or dared to remove his eyes from the other's. Their laboured
breathing found an echo on the farther side of the door, but this again
neither observed.

"Well?" Count Hannibal said at last. "Are you coming?"

"When I please," Tignonville answered; and he feinted but drew back.

The other did the same, and again they watched one another, their eyes
seeming to grow smaller and smaller. Gradually a smile had birth on
Tignonville's lips. He thrust! It was parried! He thrust
again--parried! Tavannes, grown still more cautious, gave a yard.
Tignonville pushed on, but did not allow confidence to master caution. He
began, indeed, to taunt his adversary; to flout and jeer him. But it was
with a motive.

For suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he repeated the peculiar
thrust which had been successful before. This time, however, Tavannes
was ready. He put aside the blade with a quick parade, and instead of
making a riposte sprang within the other's guard. The two came face to
face and breast to shoulder, and struck furiously with their daggers.
Count Hannibal was outside his opponent's sword and had the advantage.
Tignonville's dagger fell, but glanced off the metalwork of the other's
hilt; Tavannes' fell swift and hard between the young man's eyes. The
Huguenot flung up his hands and staggered back, falling his length on the
floor.

In an instant Count Hannibal was on his breast, and had knocked away his
dagger. T