with a mouse, eh? Eh, Captain
Urquijo-Beauvais-and-What-is-your-name?" He pressed the point here,
there, everywhere. "You were too confident. Pardon me if I appear to
brag, but I have taken lessons of the best fencing masters in Europe,
and three times, while you devoted your talents to monologues, I could
have pinned you like one of those butterflies on the wall there. Have
you ever heard of the sword of Damocles? Well, well; it hangs over many
a head to-day. I will be yours. I give you forty-eight hours to arrange
your personal affairs. If after that time you are still in this part
of the country, I shall inform the proper authorities in Vienna. The
republic has representation there. Of a noble Austrian house, on the eve
of recall? I think not."

Beauvais made a desperate attempt to clutch the blade in his hands.

"No, no!" laughed Maurice, making rapid prods which caused Beauvais to
wince. "Now, back; farther, farther. I do not like the idea of having my
back to the door."

Beauvais suddenly wheeled and dashed for the mantel. But as he
endeavored to lay hand on the revolver Maurice brought down the blade on
the Colonel's knuckles, leaving a livid welt. Maurice took possession
of the weapon, while a grimace of agony shot over the Colonel's face.
Seeing that the chambers were loaded, Maurice threw down the sword.

"Well, well!" he said, cocking the weapon. "And I saw it when I entered
the room. It would have saved a good deal of trouble." Beauvais grew
white. "O," Maurice continued, "I am not going to shoot you. I wish
merely to call your valet." He aimed at the grate and pressed the
trigger, and the report, vibrating within the four walls, was deafening.

A moment passed, and the valet, with bulging eyes and blanched face,
peered in. Seeing how matters stood, he made as though to retreat.

Maurice leveled the smoking revolver. "Come in, Francois; your master
will have need of you."

Francois complied, vertigo in his limbs. "My God!" he cried, wringing
his hands.

"Your master tried to murder me," said Maurice. Francois had heard
voices like this before, and it conveyed to him that a fine quality of
anger lay close to the surface. "Take down yonder window curtain cord."
Francois did so. "Now bind your master's hands with it."

"Francois," cried the Colonel, "if you so much as lay a finger on me,
I'll kill you."

"Francois, I will kill you if you don't," said Maurice.

"My God!" wailed the valet at loss whi