g. In the still pause of horror which followed the disaster
was heard the shrill, unceasing noise of insects in the distant meadow,
while the horses, no longer watched, gathered together a little way off
and stretched out inquisitive noses towards the motionless body of the
vanquished.

Yet he was a skilful swordsman. His fingers had a firm grasp of the hilt
and could make the whistling blade flash, hover, and descend where he
pleased, while his adversary encountered him with a wavering cowardly
spit. How had it come about? The seconds will say, and the evening
papers repeat, and to-morrow all Paris will take up the cue, that Paul
Astier slipped as he made his thrust and ran on his opponent's point. A
full and accurate account will no doubt be given: but in life it usually
happens that decision of language varies inversely with certainty
of knowledge. Even from the spectators, even from the combatants
themselves, a certain mist and confusion will always veil the crucial
moment, when, against all reasonable calculation, the final stroke was
given by intervening fate, wrapped in that obscure cloud which by epic
rule closes round the end of a contest.

Carried into a small coachman's room adjoining the stable, Paul, on
opening his eyes after a long swoon, saw first from the iron bedstead on
which he lay a lithographic print of the Prince Imperial pinned to the
wall over the drawers, which were covered with surgical instruments. As
consciousness returned to him through the medium of external objects,
the poor melancholy face with its faded eyes, discoloured by the damp of
the walls, suggested a sad omen of ill-fated youth. But besides ambition
and cunning, Paul had his full share of courage; and raising with
difficulty his head and its cumbrous wrapping of bandages, he asked in
a voice broken and weak, though fleeting still, 'Wound or scratch,
doctor?' Gomes, who was rolling up his medicated wool, waved to him to
keep quiet, as he answered, 'Scratch, you lucky dog; but a near shave.
Aubouis and I thought the carotid was cut.' A faint colour came into the
young man's cheeks, and his eyes sparkled. It is so satisfactory not to
die! Instantly his ambition revived, and he wanted to know how long he
should take to get well again. 'From three weeks to a month.' Such was
the doctor's judgment, announced in an indifferent tone with an amusing
shade of contempt. He was really very much annoyed and mortified that
his patient had got