"Yes."

"And the King?"

"He was hurt by Detchard before I killed Detchard, but I pray that he
lives."

"You fool!" said Rupert, pleasantly.

"One thing more I did."

"And what's that?"

"I spared your life. I was behind you on the bridge, with a revolver in
my hand."

"No? Faith, I was between two fires!"

"Get off your horse," I cried, "and fight like a man."

"Before a lady!" said he, pointing to the girl. "Fie, your Majesty!"

Then in my rage, hardly knowing what I did, I rushed at him. For a
moment he seemed to waver. Then he reined his horse in and stood waiting
for me. On I went in my folly. I seized the bridle and I struck at him.
He parried and thrust at me. I fell back a pace and rushed at him again;
and this time I reached his face and laid his cheek open, and darted
back almost before he could strike me. He seemed almost dazed at the
fierceness of my attack; otherwise I think he must have killed me. I
sank on my knee panting, expecting him to ride at me. And so he would
have done, and then and there, I doubt not, one or both of us would have
died; but at the moment there came a shout from behind us, and, looking
round, I saw, just at the turn of the avenue, a man on a horse. He was
riding hard, and he carried a revolver in his hand. It was Fritz von
Tarlenheim, my faithful friend. Rupert saw him, and knew that the game
was up. He checked his rush at me and flung his leg over the saddle, but
yet for just a moment he waited. Leaning forward, he tossed his hair off
his forehead and smiled, and said: "_Au revoir_, Rudolf Rassendyll!"

Then, with his cheek streaming blood, but his lips laughing and his
body swaying with ease and grace, he bowed to me; and he bowed to the
farm-girl, who had drawn near in trembling fascination, and he waved his
hand to Fritz, who was just within range and let fly a shot at him. The
ball came nigh doing its work, for it struck the sword he held, and he
dropped the sword with an oath, wringing his fingers and clapped his
heels hard on his horse's belly, and rode away at a gallop.

And I watched him go down the long avenue, riding as though he rode for
his pleasure and singing as he went, for all there was that gash in his
cheek.

Once again he turned to wave his hand, and then the gloom of thickets
swallowed him and he was lost from our sight. Thus he vanished--reckless
and wary, graceful and graceless, handsome, debonair, vile, and
unconquered. And I flung my swo