"Good luck, not science," cried Miroslav, hotly, "I defy you to repeat that trick, Captain Woodville. I must have a second bout." This demand was not allowed by Zabern, though Paul himself good-naturedly offered to grant it. "Miroslav seems in savage mood to-day," whispered a fair lady to the cavalier who was bending over her. "He suffered a prisoner to escape yesterday," replied her partner, "and as a consequence he had a _mauvais quart d'heure_ with the princess this morning. _Hinc illæ lacrimæ._" "Captain Woodville ought now to give his arm a rest," cried Katina. But Paul, perceiving the favorable impression that he was making, expressed his readiness to proceed without delay. "I am now to be your opponent," said Zabern, taking up a fencing-blade in his left and only hand, "and I warn you, Captain Woodville, to be careful." This caution was not without its need. Zabern was considered by those best qualified to judge the second swordsman in Czernova, and Paul quickly found that he had met an opponent nearly equal, if not equal, to himself. The marshal had an arm of steel; as a warrior who had faced the charge of bayonets on many a battle-field he was not likely to become nervous in a mock-contest. Cool and wary, after a few preliminary passes designed to test the other's skill, Zabern seemed content to remain for the most part on the defensive, watching his opportunity. Paul, conscious of the marshal's dexterity, was disposed to do the same; and hence this fourth bout appeared somewhat tame when contrasted with the spirited and dashing style of the preceding contests. It promised to prove indefinitely long, till on a sudden Zabern cried,-- "Hold, I have felt enough to know that I am your inferior, and as such, Captain Woodville, I lower my sword to you." Which he did in graceful fashion, and, oddly enough, seeming to be extremely pleased over this acknowledgment of defeat. "You would not have to make such confession, marshal," said Paul, "if you could recover the good hand you left behind in Russia." He turned to glance at his two remaining opponents,--Brunowski and Nikita. "If the marshal, the best of us all, admits himself beaten," said the President of the Diet, "of what use is it for me to try?" The trooper murmured something to the like effect. "Give me leave," said Paul, "to retire from this silver line and to move about freely, and I will meet my two remaining opponents together." "That were to take an unfair advantage of a man," said Brunowski, resenting Paul's proposal as a slight upon his swordsmanship. "Fair or unfair," growled Zabern, "step forward, both of you, and let us see whether Captain Woodville can do it. If you deem his word a boast, prove it to be such." The ladies, too, curiously eager to witness fresh proofs of Paul's skill, added their voices to Zabern's, and thus adjured the two men came forward and faced Paul.