"It is true," the other remarked, ironically; "I forget that you expect at any moment a dispensation from the Court of Home, which will declare my marriage null and void, and allow you to give your daughter to the man whose credit has caused you to be nominated Viceroy of New Spain." "Sir!" the Duke exclaimed. "What, do you pretend I am in error? No, no, my lord Duke, my spies are as good as yours--I am well served, believe me: thank heaven I have arrived in time to prevent it. Make way there!" he said, repulsing by a gesture the two gentlemen who opposed his passage--"I am your husband, madam; follow me, I shall be able to protect you." The two young men, leaving their sister, who was in a semi-fainting state, rushed on the Count, and both buffeted him in the face with their gloves, while drawing their swords. The Count turned fearfully pale at this cruel insult; he uttered a wild beast yell, and unsheathed. The valets, held in check by the two sailors, had not made a movement. The Duke rushed between the three men, who were ready for the assault. "Count," he said, coolly, to the younger of his sons, "leave to your brother the duty of chastising this man." "Thanks, father," the elder answered, as he fell on guard, while his younger brother lowered the point of his sword, and fell back a pace. Doña Clara was lying motionless on the floor. At the first attack the two enemies engaged their swords up to their guard, and then, as if of common accord, each retreated a step. There was something sinister in the appearance of this inn room at the moment. This woman, who lay writhing on the floor, suffering from a horrible nervous crisis, and no one dreaming of succouring her. This old man, with frowning brow, and features contracted by pain, witnessing with apparent stoicism this duel between his elder son and his son-in-law, while his younger son was biting his lips with fury because he could not assist his brother; these sailors, with pistols at the breasts of the lackeys, who were palsied with terror; and in the centre of the room, scarce lighted by a few smoking candles, these two men, sword in hand, watching like two tigers the moment to slay each other. The combat was not long; too great a hatred animated the two adversaries for them to lose time in feeling each other's strength. The Duke's son, more impatient than the Count, made thrust on thrust, which the other had great difficulty in parrying; at length, the young man feeling himself too deeply engaged, tried to make a second backward step, but his foot slipped on the boards, and he involuntarily raised his sword; at the same moment the Count liberated his blade by a movement rapid as thought, and his sword entirely disappeared in his adversary's chest; then he leaped back to avoid the back thrust, and fell on guard again.