athering as the seconds returned to their principals.

It had been arranged by the seconds that they should not fight in
uniform, as the heavy boots impeded their action. Both were
accordingly attired in evening dress. Rupert wore dark puce satin
breeches, white stockings, and very light buckled shoes. His
opponent was in bright orange-coloured breeches, with stockings to
match. Coats and waistcoats were soon removed, and the shirt
sleeves rolled up above the elbow.

As they took stand face to face, something like a groan went
through the spectators. Rupert stood about five feet nine, slight,
active, with smooth face, and head covered with short curls. The
German stood six feet high, with massive shoulders, and arms
covered with muscle. His huge moustache was twisted upwards towards
his ears; his hair was cropped short, and stood erect all over his
head. It was only among a few of the shrewder onlookers that the
full value of the tough, whipcordy look of Rupert's frame, and the
extreme activity promised by his easy pose, were appreciated. The
general opinion went back to the former verdict, that the disparity
was so great that, even putting aside the German's well-known
skill, the duel was little short of murder.

Just before they stood on guard, Captain Muller said, in a loud
voice, "Now, sir, if you have any prayer to say, say it; for I warn
you, I will kill you like a dog."

A cry of "Shame!" arose from the entire body of spectators; when it
abated Rupert said, quietly but clearly, "My prayers are said,
Captain Muller. If yours are not, say them now, for assuredly I
will kill you--not as a dog, for a dog is a true and faithful
animal, but as I would kill a tiger, or any other beast whose
existence was a scourge to mankind."

A cheer of approbation arose from the circle; and with a groan of
rage Captain Muller took his stand. Rupert faced him in an instant,
and their swords crossed. For a short time the play was exceedingly
cautious on both sides, each trying to find out his opponent's
strength. Hitherto the German had thought but little of what Fulke
had told him that he had heard, of Rupert's skill; but the calm and
confident manner of the young Englishman now impressed him with the
idea that he really, boy as he was, must be something out of the
common way. The thought in no way abated his own assurance, it
merely taught him that it would be wiser to play cautiously at
first, instead of, as he had intended,