iosity. As his boast had been the matter of
public talk; and as all noticed that two officers of the 5th were
present, it was anticipated that a scene would ensue.

A glance at Dillon's face showed that the blood had left his cheek;
for, brave as the Irishman was, the prospect of being killed like a
dog by this native swordsman could not but be terrible to him, and
he did not doubt for a moment that he would be selected. Captain
Muller walked leisurely up to the bar, drank off a bumper of raw
Geneva, and then turned and looked round the room. As his eyes fell
on the uniform of the 5th, a look of satisfaction came over his
face, and fixing his eyes on Dillon, he walked leisurely across the
room.

Rupert happened to be sitting on the outside of the table, and he
at once rose and as calmly advanced towards the German.

There was now a dead silence in the room, and all listened intently
to hear what the lad had to say to the duellist. Rupert spoke
first; and although he did not raise his voice in the slightest,
not a sound was lost from one end of the room to the other.

"Captain Muller," he said, "I hear that you have made a boast that
you will kill the first officer of my regiment whom you met. I am,
I think, the first, and you have now the opportunity of proving
whether you are a mere cutthroat, or a liar."

A perfect gasp of astonishment was heard in the room. Dillon leapt
to his feet, exclaiming, "No, Rupert, I will not allow it! I am
your senior officer."

And the gallant fellow would have pushed forward, had not Lord
Fairholm put his hand on his shoulder and forced him back, saying:

"Leave him alone; he knows what he is doing."

The German took a step back, with a hoarse exclamation of rage and
surprise at Rupert's address, and put his hand to his sword. Then,
making a great effort to master his fury, he said:

"You are safe in crowing loud, little cockerel; but Captain Muller
does not fight with boys."

A murmur of approval ran round the room; for the prospect of this
lad standing up to be killed by so noted a swordsman was painful
alike to the German and English officers present.

"The same spirit appears to animate you and your friend Sir Richard
Fulke," Rupert said quietly. "He did not care about fighting a boy,
and so employed a dozen of his soldiers to murder him."

"It is a lie!" the captain thundered, "Beware, young sir, how you
tempt me too far."

"You know it is not a lie," Rupert said cal