“Give me your dagger, sirrah,” she repeated in a voice that was full of passion. The dwarf, a wretched, misshapen hunchback, obeyed her with a scowl and a whimper. At the same moment there arose the measured clank of arms. The Count of Nullepart and myself, acting upon the natural instinct that directed our minds rather than upon the wisdom of our mistress which had yet bade us do so, drew our swords and climbed to the daïs. Almost as we reached this eminence, Don Luiz came into the room with some half a dozen soldiers, whose swords were also drawn and who wore corslets of steel. At this sight a kind of haze fell across my eyes. Yet such an exaltation came upon my blood as never before had quickened it; and I gripped my weapon as though it had been the waist of a mistress, and awaited the onfall with joy. “Behind the table, close to the wall,” said the Count of Nullepart in a soft whispering voice which yet was perfectly calm. “Farther by the left a little, that we may play better. Straight at their faces. We shall get nothing out of these plaguy breastplates.” The Count of Nullepart also, if I am not mistaken, was fallen into my condition. I could hear the ring of joy in his voice. It would seem that here was his moment also. He too seemed to hold his blade like a lover. As a prologue to the fray, no sooner had the soldiers entered the room and had fallen to attend the duke’s instructions than the Countess Sylvia walked on to the daïs, and in the next moment had come to stand on the table itself, with her whip in one hand, her dagger in the other, and a good sword on either side of her. From this singular eminence she gazed with an insolent contumely upon the forces that were being marshalled against us. “Soldiers of the guard,” she said, as though she were speaking to an army, “your bare swords are your peril. His lordship’s grace is no longer your commander. He is an old man and a querulous; a dotard so shrunk in his wits that I hereby depose him. Myself as the mistress to his dominion do appoint myself to the regency. From this moment do I declare myself no less your master than your mistress. Here do I take my stance; here do I enforce my authority; and these virtuous gentlemen that keep at my side are your honourable captains. Sheathe your swords therefore, doff your bonnets, and like honest men do homage to your liege-lady.” Now, I was never able to learn whether this wonderful speech was given--and you must believe me, reader, when I assure you it was no less wonderful in its mode than in its form--for the behoof of his grace’s soldiers or for that of his grace himself. At least it was not without an effect upon both. The guard looked at the duke in just such a fashion as Don Luiz and the dwarf had done; and he, like the dotard that at heart he was, began to whine and threaten and hurl abuse upon this noble intrepidity, and yet himself to stand irresolute.