The result of this firing was to cause a large oval to appear upon the surface of the board. The revolvers having been reloaded, Katina resumed her shooting. Now within the oval lines and curves began to appear, the whole assuming the outline of a human countenance, and that so well executed as to be clearly recognizable by those acquainted with the original. "Orloff, the governor-general of Warsaw," cried several voices in unison. "Czernova will never lack a good tirailleur so long as Katina Ludovska be living," said Zabern, adding in a lower tone, "why have you learned to shoot so well?" "Can you ask?" she replied in a fierce whisper. "Against the day of my meeting with Orloff. Can any one beat that shooting?" she added aloud, with an invitatory glance at Paul, who smiled a negative. A shout of applause went up in favor of Katina, who was considered to have redeemed the honor of Czernova. "Ah! why were you not born a Pole?" said Juliska, addressing Paul. "May I not become one?" "Then shall you be a better Pole than any of us," said Katina, "for whereas we are such by accident of birth, you will be such by freedom of choice." "Well said, Katina," observed Zabern. "And never was there one whom I more willingly admit to Czernovese citizenship. But Captain Woodville," he added, thoughtfully, "it will be well if you remain a British subject for a few more days. Why, the sequel will show." And Paul, believing that Zabern did not speak without good reason, assented to the delay. There was no more fencing in the _salle d'armes_ that day. The members shrank from displaying their inferior powers before such an expert as Paul. The assembly broke up into little groups. "And how fares our ducal prisoner?" asked Radzivil, addressing the governor of the Citadel. "In somewhat gloomy mood," answered Miroslav. "He spends his time chiefly in drinking old Rhenish, and in muttering to himself. By the way, he did a very peculiar act immediately after entering the Citadel last evening." "Ha!" exclaimed Zabern, catching at this. "What was the act?" "You know, marshal, it is our rule to search all prisoners on their entering,--a routine from which we did not except even his grace." "And what did you discover?" "Upon his person--nothing; that is, nothing of consequence. But a few minutes afterwards a soldier caught sight of the remains of a book burning upon a fire that was close by." "Flung there by the duke?" "Without doubt. The mystery is how he contrived to do it without our knowledge, inasmuch as there were several persons standing by." "You recovered the book from the flames?" "We attempted to remove it with the tongs, but the thing fell to pieces; the pages were consumed; nothing but the leather cover remained, and that all charred; upon it we could just discern the title." "And that was--?" "'The Plays of Æschylus.' Now why should the duke desire to destroy his copy of the Greek poet?"