trees, turning their heads cautiously from side to
side. Behind these two rode six others, apparently unarmed, two
abreast. He saw at once that nothing could save him, for they
were making straight for his beech-tree. In that second of
suspense he made up his mind to die fighting, for he knew what
capture meant. He fixed his eyes on the foremost Uhlan, and
waited. When the Uhlan should pass his tree he would fly at him;
the rest could stab him to death with their lances--that was the
only way to end it now.

He shrank back, teeth set, nerving himself for the spring--a
hunted thing turned fierce, a desperate man knowing that death
was close. How long they were in coming! Had they seen him? When
would the horse's nose pass the great tree-trunk?

"Halt!" cried a voice very near. The soft trample of horses
ceased.

"Dismount!"

It seemed an age; the sluggish seconds crawled on. There was the
sound of feet among the dry forest leaves--the hum of deep
voices. He waited, trembling, for now it would be a man on foot
with naked sabre who should sink under his spring. Would he never
come?

At last, unable to stand the suspense, he moved his eyes to the
edge of the tree. There they were, a group of Uhlans standing
near two men who stood facing each other, jackets off, shirts
open to the throat.

The two men were Rickerl and Von Steyr.

Rickerl rolled up his white shirt-sleeve and tucked the cuff into
the folds, his naked sabre under his arm. Von Steyr, in shirt,
riding-breeches, and boots, stood with one leg crossed before the
other, leaning on his bared sabre. The surgeon and the two
seconds walked apart, speaking in undertones, with now and then a
quick gesture from the surgeon. The three troopers held the
horses of the party, and watched silently. When at last one of
the Uhlans spoke, they were so near that every word was perfectly
distinct to Jack:

"Gentlemen, an affair of honour in the face of the enemy is
always deplorable."

Rickerl burst out violently. "There can be no compromise--no
adjustment. Is it Lieutenant von Steyr who seeks it? Then I tell
him he is a hangman and a coward! He hangs a franc-tireur who
fires on us with explosive bullets, but he himself does not
hesitate to disgrace his uniform and regiment by firing explosive
bullets at an escaping wretch in a balloon!"

"You lie!" said Von Steyr, his face convulsed. At the same moment
the surgeon stepped forward with a gesture, the two seconds
pla