“Dishonourable, my eavesdropper?” he repeated with a dangerous gleam in his eye. “I said the word, sir.” “To whom do you apply it—to me or to the lady?” “To both.” “’Tis a word you shall withdraw, or justify.” “The lady’s last action justifies it. If innocent, why flee? She knows me, and knowing, dares not face me.” “In knowing you she has the advantage of me. Let me declare myself. I am an Englishman, Viscount Courtenay; my face you may see,” and as he spoke Wilfrid removed his mask. “May I ask for a similar return on your part?” For though Wilfrid had little doubt that the other was Ouvaroff, still the lifting of the mask would bring certainty. “Is it possible that you do not recognise me?” “Can _your_ eyes see through a silk mask?” The Crusader hesitated for a moment. “You do not know me? It is well!” He seemed to derive satisfaction from Wilfrid’s failure to identify him. “To-morrow morning you shall see my face and learn my name.” “And why not to-night, my Crusader?” “It is my pleasure for the present to reserve my identity.” “But how if it be mine to know it now? How if I do not choose to wait till the morning? How if I take off your mask, and compel you at the sword’s point to reveal your name?” “You are welcome to try,” responded the other, moving backward a pace or two to prevent Wilfrid from snatching off his mask. “Good! got the right sort of stuff in him,” thought Wilfrid as he saw the other grasp his sword-hilt and prepare to defend himself. “In the morning,” continued the stranger, “when you shall have learned my name you will readily acknowledge that I have valid reasons for preserving to-night my _incognito_.” “Egad, you are very mysterious, my one-time friend,” thought Wilfrid. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” continued the other, “than to cross swords with you here and now, but that in so doing we should be abusing the hospitality of our princely host, Sumaroff. Moreover, the clash of our steel is certain to draw around us a crowd who would seek to stop our fighting; and,” added he, with a grim and deadly earnestness, “when we have once begun there must be no stopping till we make an end.” In Wilfrid’s opinion Ouvaroff must have attained considerable proficiency in swordsmanship to hold language such as this. Always having a respect for the man willing to fight, he replied with a bow— “Be it so; since you wish it, retain your mask and your _incognito_, which,” added he to himself, “is no _incognito_.” Aloud he continued, “Your desire to cross swords with me meets with a ready response. May I point out, however, that it is somewhat unusual to invite a man to a duel without assigning due cause. You have not yet justified your reflection on my honour.”