ere is but one thing to be done; to
kill the one who had just uttered it. Ogareff rises and sees the blind
courier! Thinking he has an immense advantage over the blind man, he
throws himself upon him. But with one hand Michael grasps the arm of his
enemy and hurls him to the ground. Ogareff gathers himself together like
a tiger about to spring, and utters not a word. The noise of his
footsteps, his very breathing, he tries to conceal from the blind man.
At last, with a spring, he drives his sword full blast at Michael's
breast. An imperceptible movement of the blind man's knife turns aside
the blow. Michael is not touched, and coolly waits a second attack. Cold
drops stand on Ogareff's brow; he draws back a step and again leaps
forward. But like the first, this attempt fails. Michael's knife has
parried the blow from the traitor's useless sword. Mad with rage and
terror, he gazes into the wide open eyes of the blind man. Those eyes
which seemed to pierce to the bottom of his soul, and which did not,
could not, see, exercise a sort of dreadful fascination over him.

Suddenly Ogareff utters a cry: "He sees! He sees!"

"Yes, I see. Thinking of my mother, the tears which sprang to my eyes
saved my sight. I see the mark of the knout which I gave you, traitor
and coward! I see the place where I am about to strike you! Defend your
life! It is a duel I offer you! My knife against your sword!" The
tears, which his pride in vain endeavored to subdue, welling up from his
heart, had gathered under his eyelids, and volatilized on the cornea,
and the vapor formed by his tears interposing between the glowing saber
and his eyeballs had been sufficient to annihilate the action of the
heat and save his sight. Ogareff now feels that he is lost, but
mustering up all his courage he springs forward. The two blades cross,
but at a touch from Michael's knife the sword flies in splinters, and
the wretch, stabbed to the heart, falls lifeless to the ground. The
crash of the steel attracting the attention of the ducal train, the door
is thrown open, and the Grand Duke, accompanied by some of his officers,
enters. The Grand Duke advances. In the body lying on the ground he
recognizes the man whom he believes to be the Czar's courier. Then in
threatening voice, "Who killed this man."

"I," answered Michael.

"Thy name? I know him! He is the Czar's courier."

"That man, your highness, is not a courier of the Czar! He is Ivan
Ogareff!"

"Ivan,