h a manner that neither would have the sun in his eyes
but merely his shoulder against the disc. Robert took off his coat and
waistcoat and Willet folded them over his own arm. De Mezy prepared in
like manner. Nemours gazed at young Lennox's shoulders and arms, and the
muscles swelling beneath his thin shirt, and he was not quite so sure of
his principal's victory as he had been.

Then the two faced each other and Robert looked straight into his
opponent's eyes, reading there the proof that while outwardly de Mezy
might now show no signs of dissipation, yet drink and lost hours had
struck a blow at the vital organism of the human machine. He was more
confident than ever, and he repeated to himself Willet's advice to be
cautious and slow at first.

"Your positions, gentlemen!" said de Galisonniere, and they stood face
to face. The turf was short and firm, and the place was ideal for their
purpose. Among the trees the eager eyes of Monsieur Berryer and a score
of others watched.

"Ready!" said de Galisonniere, and then, after a pause of two or three
moments, he added:

"Proceed!"

Robert had not looked straight into his opponent's eye so long for
nothing. He knew now that de Mezy was choleric and impatient, that he
would attack at once with a vigorous arm and a furious heart, expecting
a quick and easy victory. His reading of the mind through the eye was
vindicated as de Mezy immediately forced the combat, cutting and
thrusting with a fire and power that would have overwhelmed an ordinary
opponent.

Robert smiled. He knew now beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was de
Mezy's master. Not in vain did he have those large and powerful wrists,
firm and strong as wrought steel, and not in vain had he been taught for
years by the best swordsman in America. He contented himself with
parrying the savage cuts and thrusts, and gave ground slowly, retreating
in a circle. De Mezy's eyes blazed at first with triumph. He had
resented Robert's refusal of his offer to substitute Willet, and now,
the victory which he had regarded as easy seemed to be even easier than
he had hoped. He pushed the combat harder. His sword flashed in a
continuous line of light, and the whirring of steel upon steel was
unceasing. But the face of Nemours, as he watched with an understanding
eye, fell a little. He saw that the breathing of young Lennox was long
and regular, and that his eye was still smiling.

Robert continued to give ground, but he nev