ced themselves; somebody muttered a formula in a gross bass
voice and the swordsmen raised their heavy sabres and saluted.
The next moment they were at it like tigers; their sabres flashed
above their heads, the sabres of the seconds hovering around the
outer edge of the circle of glimmering steel like snakes coiling
to spring.

To and fro swayed the little group under the blinding flashes of
light, stroke rang on stroke, steel shivered and tinkled and
clanged on steel.

Fascinated by the spectacle, Jack crouched close to the tree,
seeing all he dared to see, but keeping a sharp eye on the three
Uhlans who were holding the horses, and who should have been
doing sentry duty also. But they were human, and their eyes could
not be dragged away from the terrible combat before them.

Suddenly, from the woods to the right, a rifle-shot rang out,
clear and sharp, and one of the Uhlans dropped the three bridles,
straightened out to his full height, trembled, and lurched
sideways. The horses, freed, backed into the other horses; the
two remaining Uhlans tried to seize them, but another shot rang
out--another, and then another. In the confusion and turmoil a
voice cried: "Mount, for God's sake!" but one of the horses was
already free, and was galloping away riderless through the woods.

A terrible yell arose from the underbrush, where a belt of smoke
hung above the bushes, and again the rifles cracked. Von Steyr
turned and seized a horse, throwing himself heavily across the
saddle; the surgeon and the two seconds scrambled into their
saddles, and the remaining pair of Uhlans, already mounted,
wheeled their horses and galloped headlong into the woods.

Jack saw Rickerl set his foot in the stirrup, but his horse was
restive and started, dragging him.

"Hurry, Herr Hauptmann!" cried a Uhlan, passing him at a gallop.
Rickerl cast a startled glance over his shoulder, where, from the
thickets, a dozen franc-tireurs were springing towards him,
shouting and shaking their chassepots. Something had given
way--Jack saw that--for the horse started on at a trot, snorting
with fright. He saw Rickerl run after him, seize the bridle,
stumble, recover, and hang to the stirrup; but the horse tore
away and left him running on behind, one hand grasping his naked
sabre, one clutching a bit of the treacherous bridle.

"A mort les Uhlans!" shouted the franc-tireurs, their ferocious
faces lighting up as Rickerl's horse eluded its rider and cras