norous words, Eglamore, but with what deeds do you propose to back
them?"

"By killing you, your highness."

"So!" said the Duke. "The farce ascends in interest." He drew with a
flourish, with actual animation, for sottish, debauched and
power-crazed as this man was, he came of a race to whom danger was a
cordial. "Very luckily a sword forms part of your disguise, so let us
amuse ourselves. It is always diverting to kill, and if by any chance
you kill me I shall at least be rid of the intolerable knowledge that
to-morrow will be just like to-day." The Duke descended blithely into
the level road and placed himself on guard.

Then both men silently went about the business in hand. Both were
oddly calm, almost as if preoccupied by some more important matter to
be settled later. The two swords clashed, gleamed rigidly for an
instant, and then their rapid interplay, so far as vision went, melted
into a flickering snarl of silver, for the sun was high and each man's
shadow was huddled under him. Then Eglamore thrust savagely and in the
act trod the edge of a puddle, and fell ignominiously prostrate. His
sword was wrenched ten feet from him, for the Duke had parried
skilfully. Eglamore lay thus at Alessandro's mercy.

"Well, well!" the Duke cried petulantly, "and am I to be kept waiting
forever? You were a thought quicker in obeying my caprices yesterday.
Get up, you muddy lout, and let us kill each other with some pretension
of adroitness."

Eglamore rose, and, sobbing, caught up his sword and rushed toward the
Duke in an agony of shame and rage. His attack now was that of a
frenzied animal, quite careless of defense and desirous only of murder.
Twice the Duke wounded him, but it was Alessandro who drew backward,
composedly hindering the brutal onslaught he was powerless to check.
Then Eglamore ran him through the chest and gave vent to a strangled,
growling cry as Alessandro fell. Eglamore wrenched his sword free and
grasped it by the blade so that he might stab the Duke again and again.
He meant to hack the abominable flesh, to slash and mutilate that
haughty mask of infamy, but Graciosa clutched his weapon by the hilt.

The girl panted, and her breath came thick. "He gave you your life."

Eglamore looked up. She leaned now upon his shoulder, her face
brushing his as he knelt over the unconscious Duke; and Eglamore found
that at her dear touch all passion had gone out of him.

"Madonna," he said equab