From my youth I had the peculiar faculty of using one hand quite as well as the other, and had often practiced changing my sword swiftly from right to left. It was a simple feat, much more showy than difficult, yet exceedingly bewildering to an adversary. In this instance it afforded me an easy means of reaching his undefended side. So I feigned to be driven back, and watching for a more headlong and careless rush, my weapon was apparently twisted from my hand and for an instant seemed to hang suspended in the air. I caught it in my left and before he recovered his footing had thrown his foil from him, sending it whizzing overboard. It took but an instant to press my point firmly against his chest, as he stood panting and disarmed. Never was man more surprised. "Bravely done," cried Levert. "A most foul and dishonorable trick," Achille snarled. "Not so," Levert corrected him gravely, looking at me to observe the effect of the insult. I stood still at guard, but made no move. "Broussard, you are angry now, and I'll take no heed of your heated words. But to-morrow you must make a gentleman's amends." "Tush, tush," Levert interposed, "'tis the quarrel of a child. He means nothing." Broussard said no more, but looked surly and ill pleased. I was secretly elated at the success of my coup against such a skilled swordsman, and only remarked quietly: "Broussard, when your anger has passed I trust you will do me the honor of an apology." Behind it all I cared little, for I felt myself his master with his chosen weapon and could afford to be generous. He came up in very manly fashion, after a time, and craved my forgiveness, but we played at foils no more. The lookouts were beginning to watch for land, I growing more and more impatient as the end of our voyage drew near. And now I had much leisure to contemplate, and wonder at the strange turn of fortune which had called upon me to play a part in the affairs of state, though what the drama was, and what my lines might be, I could only guess. The story of Colonel D'Ortez, too, furnished me much food for reflection these long starlit nights, when I sat in my favorite seat in the very prow of the vessel. There would I sit night after night, watching the phosphorescent waves rippling against the vessel, gleaming fitful in the gloom; there observe the steadfast stars, and seem alone with darkness and with God. One wet morning, pacing the slippery deck, the sailing master called to me: "See, sir, yonder dim outline to the nor'east? 'Tis the Norman coast; this night, God willing, we sleep in Dieppe." My errand now consumed my entire attention, so I thought no more of my companions of the voyage, bidding them both good-night before we had yet landed. CHAPTER IV THE ROAD TO VERSAILLES