"Then you shall seek no farther!" shouted Felipe. "It is to Rubia Ytuerate, your sister, whom I owe all my unhappiness, all my suffering. She has hurt not me only, but one--but----Mother of God, we waste words!" he cried. "Knife to knife, Unzar Ytuerate. I am Felipe Arillaga, and may God be thanked for the chance that brings this quarrel to my hand." "You! You!" gasped Unzar. Fury choked him; his hands clutched and unclutched--now fists, now claws. His teeth grated sharply while a quivering sensation as of a chill crisped his flesh. "Then the sooner the better," he muttered between his set teeth, and the knives flashed in the hands of the two men so suddenly that the gleam of one seemed only the reflection of the other. Unzar held out his left wrist. "Are you willing?" he demanded, with a significant glance. "And ready," returned the other, baring his forearm. Catala, keeper of the inn, was called. "Love of the Virgin, not here, senors. My house--the _alcalde_--" "You have a strap there." Unzar pointed to a bridle hanging from a peg by the doorway. "No words; quick; do as you are told." The two men held out their left arms till wrist touched wrist, and Catala, trembling and protesting, lashed them together with a strap. "Tighter," commanded Felipe; "put all your strength to it." The strap was drawn up to another hole. "Now, Catala, stand back," commanded Unzar, "and count three slowly. At the word 'three,' Senor Arillaga, we begin. You understand." "I understand." "Ready.... Count." "One." Felipe and Unzar each put his right hand grasping the knife behind his back as etiquette demanded. "Two." They strained back from each other, the full length of their left arms, till the nails grew bloodless. "_Three!_" called Lopez Catala in a shaking voice. III. RUBIA When Felipe regained consciousness he found that he lay in an upper chamber of Catala's inn upon a bed. His shoulder, the right one, was bandaged, and so was his head. He felt no pain, only a little weak, but there was a comfortable sense of brandy at his lips, an arm supported his head, and the voice of Rubia Ytuerate spoke his name. He sat up on a sudden. "Rubia, _you_!" he cried. "What is it? What happened? Oh, I remember, Unzar--we fought. Oh, my God, how we fought! But you----What brought you here?" "Thank Heaven," she murmured, "you are better. You are not so badly wounded. As he fell he must have dragged you with him, and your head struck the threshold of the doorway." "Is he badly hurt? Will he recover?" "I hope so. But you are safe." "But what brought you here?"