or."

The Duke measured him from head to foot, in every inch of sinew.

"I am the better man," he said; "I tell you beforehand."

Sir John flung out a jeering laugh.

"Prove it," he cried. "_Prove_ it. Now is your time."

"There is open moor a short distance away," says his Grace. "Shall we
go there?"

So they set out, walking side by side, neither speaking a word. The
night was still and splendid, and just upon its turn; the rich
dark-blue of the Heavens was still hung with the spangles of the stars,
but soon they would begin to dim, and the deepness of the blue to pale
for dawn. A scented freshness was in the air, and was just stirring
with that light faint wind which so often first foretells the coming of
the morning. When, in but a few minutes, the two men stood stript of
their upper garments to their shirts, the open purple heath about them,
the jewelled sky above, this first fresh scent of day was in their
lungs and nostrils. That which stirred John Oxon to fury and at the
same time shook his nerve, though he owned it not to himself, and would
have died rather, was the singular composure of the man who was his
opponent. Every feature, every muscle, every fibre of him seemed
embodied stillness, and 'twas not that the mere physical members of him
were still, but that the power which was himself, his will, his
thought, his motion was in utter quiet, and of a quiet which was deadly
in its significance and purpose. 'Twas that still strength which
_knows_ its power and will use it, and ever by its presence fills its
enemy with impotent rage.

With such rage it filled John Oxon as he beheld it, and sneered. He had
heard rumours of the wonders of his Grace's sword-play, that from
boyhood he had excelled and delighted in it, that in the army he had
won renown, through mere experiments of his skill, that he was as
certain of his weapon as an acrobat of his least feat--but 'twas not
this which maddened the other man but the look in his steady eye.

"You are the bigger man of the two," he jeered, impudently, "but give
me your lesson and shut my mouth on Clo Wildairs--if you can."

"I am the better man," says my lord Duke, "and I will shut it. But I
will not kill you."

Then they engaged, and such a fight began as has not been often seen,
for such a battle is more of spirit than body, and is more like to be
fought alone between two enemies whose antagonism is part of being
itself, than to be fought in the presence