the rugs out of the way. Lord Cleeve
glanced round about him quick-eyed, ordered the candles to be disposed
a little differently that there might be no advantage of light, then,
folding his arms, glanced from the pale, serene face of the Major to
the cold, smiling face of Mr. Dalroyd as they fronted each other sword
in hand in the middle of the wide floor.

"Then, 'tis understood, I am not to part ya', not to interfere
until----"

"Until one of us is dead, my lord!" said Mr. Dalroyd, his nostrils
quivering.

"Exactly so!" said the Major. "Sergeant Zebedee--lock the door!"

Lord Cleeve shrugged his shoulders: "'Tis a damnably cold-blooded
business altogether!" said he as the Sergeant turned key in lock.

"Agreed, sir!" smiled Mr. Dalroyd. "But pray be so obliging as to give
the word."

The Colonel shrugged his shoulders again, cleared his throat and took a
step backwards:

"Ready, sirs!" said he curtly. "On guard!"

The narrow blades glittered, crossed, kissed lightly together and
remained for a moment rigidly motionless, then, quicker than eye could
follow, flashed into swift and deadly action. Followed the soft thud
of swift-moving feet, the quick, light beat of the blades, now ringing
sharply, now clashing and grinding, now silent altogether. Mr.
Dalroyd's white teeth were bared in a confident smile as, pressing in,
he beset the Major with thrust on thrust, now in the high line, now in
the low, constantly changing his attack, besetting him with cunning
beats and skilful twists; but cunning was met with cunning and fierce
attack with calm and unerring guard.

Thus as the moments sped, the fighting grew ever more close and deadly,
the blades darted and writhed unceasingly, they flashed and flickered
in narrow circles, while the Sergeant, leaning broad back against
locked door, watched the rapid exchanges with a fencer's eye and the
Colonel forgot all else in the world but the sublime skill of their
play. But as the moments dragged by, the Colonel's fingers began to
pull and twist irritably at one of the buttons of his coat, and about
this time too, Sergeant Zebedee's nonchalant attitude changed to one of
rigid attention, his black brows twitched and in his look was dawning
bewilderment; for while Mr. Dalroyd fought serene of face and tireless
of arm the Major seemed to have become strangely languid and
unaccountably slow, his pallid cheeks were lined with sweat and he
laboured painfully in his breath