'"If possible," I thinks to myself, "I'll have a peep also at Sir Henry's tricks to-night," and as I polished up the rapiers that afternoon I thought of the story the Squire used to tell of them. One of them had a stain on the "foible" which would not come out for any quantity of rubbing--it was the blood, the Squire said, of a certain "Black Rutherford," who had made love to the then Lady Dennington when her Knight was away fighting for King Charlie. Sir John comes back, having heard about it, but says nothing, and asks him to dinner; they have a game of cards after; Sir John accuses him of cheating, and there and then in the banqueting-hall they have a set-to with their rapiers before my lady's eyes; in five minutes Sir John disarms him, and before the rapier touches the floor, runs him clean through the right lung and out below the shoulder-blade. 'Well, after taking in coffee that evening, I went to the fencing-room, and on the pretence of looking after the fire, mending jackets, straightening masks, and so forth, stayed on there till about ten o'clock, when in comes Mrs. Dennington, followed by Sir Henry. 'She gives a sort of start when she sees me, then she says curtly, "You needn't stay, Carruthers," and walks past me into the middle of the room. 'Well, I felt bound to see that fencing, whatever it might be, and the only way I could manage it was to go round and up to the old musicians' gallery at the southern end. If I could open the door without attracting notice, I might then lie down at full length and see pretty well what was going on below. 'It took me the best part of five minutes to open the door and squeeze through, and when I had crawled to the ledge and looked over, the two combatants were just about to begin. '"Put the letters on the mantelpiece," I could hear her say with a curiously strung tone to her voice, and Sir Henry bowed in a mocking sort of way. Then he says slowly, after having walked to the chimney-piece and placed a packet on the shelf: "But it is not quite fair, of course, for you cannot see your stakes, whereas I--I have mine before my eyes at the end of my blade--the most beautiful stakes in Europe," and he bowed again to Madame with an air of gallantry and passion and arrogance all in one. 'For reply the mistress only gave a quick nod with her head, nervous, impatient, like a racehorse that must be away. 'I daren't do more than peep over now and again, for the lights were bright below, and I was afraid of being caught; but I could see that she was in a state of great excitement, while he was cool in comparison with her, and wore a proud, triumphing sort of air, as of one who knows full well he has the victory in his grasp. 'They walk to the centre of the hall and take their stands. They "take length," and then salute--she, swiftly, nervously, he in a foreign, bravado sort of fashion. '"First blood," says Sir Henry, "and the stakes are won," saluting once again in a vainglorious way he had.