The rattle of a sabre which one of them wore attracted Darke’s attention. He reached the door of the room at a single bound--but at the same instant the new comers rushed by me, and burst in. As they passed I recognized them. One was Mohun, the other Nighthawk. XXII. DARKE AND MOHUN. What followed was instantaneous. The adversaries were face to face, and each drew his pistol and fired at the same moment. Neither was struck: they drew their swords; and, through the cloud of smoke filling the apartment, I could see Darke and Mohun close in, in a hand to hand encounter. They were both excellent swordsmen, and the struggle was passionate and terrible. Mohun’s movements were those of the tiger springing upon his prey; but Darke met the attack with a coolness and phlegm which indicated unshrinking nerve; his expression seemed, even, to indicate that crossing swords with his adversary gave the swarthy giant extreme pleasure. His face glowed, and a flash darted from beneath the shaggy eyebrows. I could see him smile; but the smile was strange. From the adversaries my glance passed quickly to the gray woman. She was leaning against the wall, and exhibited no emotion whatever; but the lurid blaze in the great dark eyes, as she looked at Mohun, clearly indicated that a storm was raging in her bosom. Opposite the woman stood Nighthawk--motionless, but grasping a pistol. As to Swartz, that worthy had profited by an open window near, and had glided through it and disappeared. To return to the combatants. The passionate encounter absorbed all my attention. Mohun and Darke were cutting at each other furiously. They seemed equally matched, and the result was doubtful. One thing only seemed certain--that in a few minutes one of the adversaries would be dead. Such was the situation of affairs when shots were heard without, the clash of sabres followed, and the door behind Darke was burst open violently by his orderly, who rushed in, exclaiming:-- “Look out, colonel! The enemy are on you!” As he uttered these words, the man drew a revolver and aimed at Mohun’s breast. Before he could fire, however, an explosion was heard, and I saw the man suddenly drop his weapon, which went off as it escaped from his nerveless grasp. Then he threw up his hands, reeled, took two uncertain steps backward, and fell at full length on the floor. Nighthawk had shot him through the heart. All this had taken place in far less time than it has taken to write it. I had made violent efforts to break through the window; and finding this impossible, now ran to the door and burst into the apartment. The singular scene was to have as singular a denouement. Darke evidently realized the great danger which he ran, for the house was now surrounded, nearly, and his capture was imminent.