"So thou dost still claim the deer? Mark you, Francis Stafford! We of the court think it not honorable to claim that which doth not belong to us. Thou hadst no shadow of hand in the deed. It lies between thy sister and me. Yet still thou sayst,--'I slew it.' Hark ye! if ye so choose we can settle the matter in the great park some eventide. But for the sake of truth say no more that you slew it. It is between thy sister and myself." "My sister," murmured Francis, and then remembering herself: "My sister be it." "And thou and I will meet and decide the business once for all," went on Devereaux. "Come! what say you to the third night from this? There are duties that forbid the undertaking sooner." "But, but," stammered Francis. "I----" "Ah! thou dost fear." Edward Devereaux looked his scorn. "We will drop the matter. But thou must fight, or concede that I slew the deer." "I fear nothing," cried the girl. "I will meet thee when and where thou wilt." "Then on the third night from this, thou and I will meet in the park close by the wicket of the western gate. I will show thee this day where it lieth. And now we must to duty." CHAPTER XIV A STRANGE DUEL Now, Francis Stafford knew but little of the noble art of fencing. Once or twice her father had given her the foils and shown her some of the attitudes and thrusts, but beyond that her knowledge did not extend. It was with considerable trepidation, therefore, that she thought of the approaching combat. "Marry!" she mused. "Were it not that Master Devereaux would impute it to fear I would not engage in such contest. It is not befitting my maiden dignity, and I know my mother would not approve. Yet there have been maiden warriors, why should there not be maiden duelists. I doubt not, were the truth known, that there have been many. But howsoe'er that may be, my father, I know, would not like me to submit to the implication of fear; albeit I would not harm the lad even though he be the son of my father's enemy." Through the watches of the night the question of swordsmanship troubled her, and when the morning came she had reached no solution of the difficulty. "I dare not appeal to any who know my sex," she thought as she took her place among the pages that swarmed one of the ante-chambers. "I would that I knew of one that would teach me to thrust and to parry." While she was thus musing a courtier approached her. He was gorgeously arrayed. Jewels to a fabulous amount adorned his person. Even upon his pantoufles or shoes were large pearls instead of the roses beloved of the gallants. His beard was pointed, his eyes set close together; his manner, when he chose, was irresistible, and his smile very winning. There was a pipe of the new found tobacco in his mouth,--a weed that had just been imported from the new world. "My fair lad," said the courtier removing his pipe, and speaking in the broad soft accent of Devonshire, "I have not marked thy face before. Art new to the court?"