his life. The needles began to leave his right hand and
arm, and he knew that he had received no injury other than a shock. He
passed the saber back to his right hand. He had no difficulty in holding
it. Gradually his grip grew strong and steady.

Beauvais was now within twenty yards of Maurice. Had he been less eager
and held his fire up to this point, Maurice had been a dead man. The
white horse gained every moment. A dull fury grew into life in Maurice's
heart. Instead of continuing the race, he brought the Mecklenberg to his
haunches and wheeled. He made straight for Beauvais, who was surprised
at this change of tactics. In the rush they passed each other and the
steel hummed spitefully through space. Both wheeled again.

"Your life or mine!" snarled Maurice. His coolness, however, was
proportionate to his rage. For the first time in his life the lust to
kill seized him.

"It shall be yours, damn you!" replied Beauvais.

"The Austrian ambassador has your history; kill me or not, you are
lost." Maurice made a sweep at his enemy's head and missed.

Beauvais replied in kind, and it flashed viciously off the point of
Maurice's saber. He had only his life to lose, but it had suddenly
become precious to him; Beauvais had not only his life, but all that
made life worth living. His onslaught was terrible. Besides, he was
fighting against odds; he wore no steel protector. Maurice wore his only
a moment longer. A cut in the side severed the lacings, and the sagging
of the cuirass greatly handicapped him. He pressed the spurs and dashed
away, while Beauvais cursed him for a cowardly cur. Maurice, by this
maneuver, gained sufficient time to rid himself of the cumbersome steel.
What he lost in protection, he gained in lightness and freedom. Shortly
Beauvais was at him again. The time for banter had passed; they fought
grimly and silently. The end for one was death. Beauvais knew that if
his antagonist escaped this time the life he longed for, the power and
honor it promised, would never be his. On his side, Maurice was equally
determined to live.

The horses plunged and snorted, reared and swayed and bit. Sometimes
they carried their masters several yards apart, only to come smashing
together again.

The sun was going down, and a clear, white light prevailed. Afar in
the field a herd was grazing, but no one would call them to the sheds.
Master and mistress had long since taken flight.

The duel went on. Maurice was gro