rity of the meeting arranged, and, consequently, the danger in
which he stood on every score; at others he could think of nothing but
the unpardonable affront that had been offered him and the venomously
insulting manner in which it had been offered, and his rage welled up to
blot out every consideration other than that of punishing Samoval.

For two days and a night he was a sort of shuttlecock tossed between
these alternating moods, and he was still the same when he paced the
quadrangle with bowed head and hands clasped behind him awaiting Samoval
at a few minutes before twelve of the following night. The windows that
looked down from the four sides of that enclosed garden were all in
darkness. The members of the household had withdrawn over an hour ago
and were asleep by now. The official quarters were closed. The rising
moon had just mounted above the eastern wing and its white light
fell upon the upper half of the facade of the residential site. The
quadrangle itself remained plunged in gloom.

Sir Terence, pacing there, was considering the only definite conclusion
he had reached. If there were no way even now of avoiding this duel, at
least it must remain secret. Therefore it could not take place here in
the enclosed garden of his own quarters, as he had so rashly consented.
It should be fought upon neutral ground, where the presence of the body
of the slain would not call for explanations by the survivor.

From distant Lisbon on the still air came softly the chimes of
midnight, and immediately there was a sharp rap upon the little door set
in one of the massive gates that closed the archway.

Sir Terence went to open the wicket, and Samoval stepped quickly over
the sill. He was wrapped in a dark cloak, a broad-brimmed hat obscured
his face. Sir Terence closed the door again. The two men bowed to each
other in silence, and as Samoval's cloak fell open he produced a pair of
duelling-swords swathed together in a skin of leather.

"You are very punctual, sir," said O'Moy.

"I hope I shall never be so discourteous as to keep an opponent waiting.
It is a thing of which I have never yet been guilty," replied Samoval,
with deadly smoothness in that reminder of his victorious past. He
stepped forward and looked about the quadrangle. "I am afraid the moon
will occasion us some delay," he said. "It were perhaps better to
wait some five or ten minutes, by then the light in here should have
improved."

"We can avoid th