The troops, puzzled but not permitted to question, rode off in the direction of Cassel. Von Sungen, who had taken from one of them a second torch, now strode back to the barn with it. He found Dick ready for the contest, for which the barn floor presented a sufficient arena. The baron handed the second torch to Romberg, and silently made his preparations. The four who were to be spectators moved to where Antoine had already led the horses, at one end of the barn floor. The torches threw an uneven red light on the scene, leaving the surroundings, here obscure, and there entirely lost in shadow. Dick and Von Sungen faced each other, without the least hatred, indeed with great esteem, but each determined to kill the other. The swords clashed. The advantage in duelling experience lay strongly with Von Sungen. Dick had fought only one duel, but he had recently resumed practice with the foils under a French fencing-master at Cassel. Moreover, Von Sungen was still fully under the excitement with which he had started on the pursuit, while with Dick this incident had been immediately preceded by so many scenes of danger that he could now face anything with calmness. So he fought cautiously, at first only guarding against the other's impetuous attack. Finally the Baron's exertions began to tell upon him, and a wild thrust betrayed either that his eye was no longer true, or that his brain had lost perfect control of his arm. Dick felt it was now but a matter of time that the Baron should lay himself open to a decisive lunge. Suddenly the barn door was flung open from the outside, and two men stepped unceremoniously in, armed with swords and pistols, and the second one bearing a torch. "Aha!" cried the first, flashing up his sword. "I thought you might be in danger!" And he ran to the aid of Von Sungen. "Curse you for meddling against orders!" cried the Baron, enraged at this assistance. "Don't interfere, I command you!"