ain or on mountain, the noble Rowski defies
you. Here, or wherever he shall meet you, he proclaims war to the death
between you and him. In token whereof, here is his glove." And taking
the steel glove from the page, Bleu Boar flung it clanging on the marble
floor.

The Princess Helen turned deadly pale: but the Prince, with a good
assurance, flung down his own glove, calling upon some one to raise the
Rowski's; which Otto accordingly took up and presented to him, on his
knee.

"Boteler, fill my goblet," said the Prince to that functionary, who,
clothed in tight black hose, with a white kerchief, and a napkin on his
dexter arm, stood obsequiously by his master's chair. The goblet was
filled with Malvoisie: it held about three quarts; a precious golden
hanap carved by the cunning artificer, Benvenuto the Florentine.

"Drink, Bleu Sanglier," said the Prince, "and put the goblet in thy
bosom. Wear this chain, furthermore, for my sake." And so saying, Prince
Adolf flung a precious chain of emeralds round the herald's neck. "An
invitation to battle was ever a welcome call to Adolf of Cleves."
So saying, and bidding his people take good care of Bleu Sanglier's
retinue, the Prince left the hall with his daughter. All were marvelling
at his dignity, courage, and generosity.

But, though affecting unconcern, the mind of Prince Adolf was far from
tranquil. He was no longer the stalwart knight who, in the reign of
Stanislaus Augustus, had, with his naked fist, beaten a lion to death
in three minutes; and alone had kept the postern of Peterwaradin for two
hours against seven hundred Turkish janissaries, who were assailing it.
Those deeds which had made the heir of Cleves famous were done thirty
years syne. A free liver since he had come into his principality, and of
a lazy turn, he had neglected the athletic exercises which had made him
in youth so famous a champion, and indolence had borne its usual
fruits. He tried his old battle-sword--that famous blade with which,
in Palestine, he had cut an elephant-driver in two pieces, and split
asunder the skull of the elephant which he rode. Adolf of Cleves could
scarcely now lift the weapon over his head. He tried his armor. It was
too tight for him. And the old soldier burst into tears, when he found
he could not buckle it. Such a man was not fit to encounter the terrible
Rowski in single combat.

Nor could he hope to make head against him for any time in the field.
The Prince's te