n you occupy in the world? I will not permit myself to be wronged!"

Meanwhile the servants of the Judge had run up, some with clubs, others
with guns; the Seneschal, standing some distance away, looked curiously
into the eyes of the Count--and held a knife in his sleeve.

They were already on the point of beginning battle, but the Judge
prevented them; it was vain to offer any defence, for a new enemy was
coming up. Among the alders they saw a flash, and heard the report of a
carbine! The bridge over the river rattled with the trampling of cavalry,
and a thousand voices thundered, "Down with the Soplica!" The Judge
shuddered, for he recognised Gerwazy's watchword.

"This is nothing," cried the Count, "there will soon be more of us here;
submit, Judge, these are my allies."

Thereupon the Assessor ran up shouting:--

"I arrest you in the name of His Imperial Majesty! Yield your sword,
Count, for I shall summon the aid of the army; and you are aware, that if
any one dares to make a night attack under arms, it is provided by ukaz
one thousand two hundred, that as a malef----"

Thereupon the Count struck him across the face with the flat of his sword.
The Assessor fell stunned, and disappeared among the nettles; all thought
that he was wounded or dead.

"I see," said the Judge, "that this looks like brigandage."

Every one shrieked; all were deafened by the wailing of Zosia, who,
throwing her arms around the Judge, cried like a child pricked with
needles by Jews.

Meanwhile Telimena had rushed among the horses and extended her clasped
hands towards the Count.

"Upon your honour!" she cried with a piercing voice, with head thrown back
and with streaming hair. "By all that is holy, we implore you on our
knees! Count, will you dare to refuse? Ladies beg you; savage man, you
must first murder _us_!"

She fell in a faint.--The Count sprang to her aid, amazed and somewhat
disconcerted by this scene.

"Panna Sophia," he said, "Pani Telimena, never shall this sword be stained
with the blood of an unarmed foe! Soplicas, you are my prisoners. Thus did
I in Italy, when beneath the crag that the Sicilians call Birbante-Rocca I
overcame a camp of brigands; the armed I slew, those that laid down their
weapons I captured and had bound: they walked behind the steeds and
adorned my glorious triumph; then they were hanged at the foot of Etna."

It was an especial piece of good luck for the Soplicas that the Count,
having bett