Paul was secretly conscious that though Zabern with Katina and Juliska might regard him favorably, he did not possess the sympathy of the rest of the persons present, who resented the unaccountable act of their princess in appointing as her secretary one who was not only a foreigner but a complete stranger to the principality. Were there no loyal Czernovese from whom her choice might have been made? Paul knew, too, that among those who stood around were some who bore the proudest names in Polish history; he himself had neither title nor long genealogy, but if there be an order of nobility founded upon superiority in swordsmanship he determined to show that he was a member of that order, and that it would not be well for any man to put a slight upon him, because of the favor shown him by the princess. On finding himself engaged in a contest with the premier Paul felt some mortification at being pitted against one so aged; but a few moments' play convinced him that Radzivil's arm had lost little of its youthful strength, or of its suppleness and dexterity. Paul, however, was decidedly the superior; and, within the space of five minutes he succeeded in disarming the count, whose blade flying through the air would have struck Katina, had she not adroitly warded it off with her own fencing-foil. Zabern, who had watched Paul with eyes that had hardly winked once, seemed pleased with the result. "An accident!" commented Dorislas, really believing the premier to have been the superior of the two. He himself was the next to engage, and again Zabern watched every motion of Paul with unwinking eyes. As a swordsman Dorislas excelled Radzivil; but, heated with a desire to vindicate the honor of Czernova, which he conceived had suffered at the hands of the premier, he became rash, was more disposed to attack than to guard, and the second contest terminated in less time than the first by the button of Paul's sabre coming full tilt against the breast of the Finance Minister. "Fairly pinked!" said Zabern, evidently more pleased than before. "No accident this time." The expression of surprise and bewilderment on the face of Dorislas at a result so little anticipated by himself was so comically pathetic that the spectators could not refrain from laughter. "You were a dead man, Dorislas, had that been a real duel," they cried. Paul was beginning to rise in their esteem. Miroslav next ventured to try his hand, and once more Zabern became so attentive that one might almost have fancied his own life hung upon the issue. Profiting by the lesson of Dorislas' rashness the governor of the Citadel commenced in a spirit of coolness and watchfulness,--a spirit that quickly evaporated when he found himself met at every point. He gave more trouble than his predecessors, but in the end Paul succeeded in twisting the weapon from his hand. Zabern's pleasure increased.