The prince carefully examined the powder and shot, made sure that his
rifle was in good condition; loaded it, and, eager to make an end, took
aim at the fisherman; but, either because he had been so much disturbed
by his opponent's terrible tale, or, because the grass was wet from the
storm, at the moment when he put forward his left foot to steady his
shot, he slipped, lost his balance and fell on one knee. He fired into
the air.

"That does not count, my lord," cried Gabriel instantly, and handed him a
second charge.

At the noise of the report Solomon had appeared at the window, and,
understanding what was going on, had lifted his hands to heaven, in order
to address to God a dumb and fervent prayer. Eligi uttered a frightful
inprecation, and hastily reloaded his rifle; but, struck by the calm
confidence of the young man, who stood motionless before him, and by the
old man, who, impassive and undisturbed, seemed to be conjuring God in
the name of a father's authority, disconcerted by his fall, his knees
shaking and his arm jarred, he felt the chills of death running in his
veins. Attempting, nevertheless, to master his emotion, he took aim a
second time; the bullet whistled by the fisherman's ear and buried itself
in the stem of a poplar.

The prince, with the energy of despair, seized the barrel of his weapon
in both hands; but Gabriel was coming forward with his axe, a terrible
foe, and his first stroke carried away the butt of the rifle. He was
still hesitating, however, to kill a defenceless man, when two armed
servants appeared at the end of the pathway. Gabriel did not see them
coming; but at the moment when they would have seized him by the
shoulders, Solomon uttered a cry and rushed to his son's assistance.

"Help, Numa! help, Bonaroux! Death to the ruffians! They want to murder
me."

"You lie, Prince of Brancaleone!" cried Gabriel, and with one blow of the
axe he cleft his skull.

The two bravoes who were coming to their master's assistance, when they
saw him fall, took flight; Solomon and his son went up to Nisida's room.
The young girl had just shaken off her heavy slumber; a slight
perspiration moistened her brow, and she opened her eyes slowly to the
dawning day.

"Why are you looking at me in that way, father?" she said, her mind still
wandering a littler and she passed her hand over her forehead.

The old man embraced her tenderly.

"You have just passed through a great danger, my poo