"That I have accomplished my mission. But ere explaining let me first dispose of the duke; otherwise when the great news which is now on its way reaches Slavowitz, he may seek to escape in the train of the Czar, which must not be, for Trevisa's death calls for atonement." Though full of wonder, Barbara succeeded in repressing her curiosity, and said,-- "Paul, you do not wish me to be a witness of this duel? I mean," she added timidly, "if you think that--that--" "That I shall fight with better success if you are looking on? No, Barbara, it is no sight for your gentle eyes. Remain here till it is over. And do not fear for me," he continued, kissing her tearful face, "I am more than a match for the duke. From boyhood upward to excel in sword-play has been my ambition. Rarely have I let a day pass without exercise. I can see now that Providence has been training my arm for this very event." His words inspired Barbara with a momentary confidence. "You will succeed, Paul. Heaven will help you, for you fight in a righteous cause. Oh, are you going? So soon? Why, we have but just met. Not yet--not yet. A minute longer--one more kiss--lest--lest--it should be--the last--O Paul--don't go--no--no--" He kissed her tenderly, gently removed her clinging arms, and quitted the sacristy. The Duke of Bora, who was sitting beside his great kinsman, the Czar, scowled as Paul made his appearance in the choir. The dullest imagination could picture the tender interview that had taken place in the sacristy. All knew that Paul had come to the combat with Barbara's kiss dewy on his lips. "But for yon fellow," muttered Bora, "I might now be the consort of the princess." "The fair lady loves power," replied the emperor. "She may yet consent when she sees the crown on your brow. See, the herald summons you. Now, Bora, play the man, and you are prince by the law of Czernova itself. All Europe will be unable to dispute the legality of your title." The two duellists did not immediately take to the sword and engage. The coronation-rubric prescribed certain formalities--relics of a mediæval usage--in connection with the championing of the sovereign; and these a herald, dressed in the quaint antique costume of his office, proceeded to carry out. "Let the champions come forward." Paul, with a smile serene and high, stepped to the appointed place, namely, the space fronting the choir. Sand had been sprinkled upon the pavement to absorb the blood that might be shed, and to prevent the combatants' feet from slipping. Bora with a scowling brow faced his opponent. "Do you, Paul Cressingham Woodville, affirm that she who calls herself Barbara Lilieska is the true and lawful ruler of this principality of Czernova?" "I do." "And do you, John Lilieski, affirm that you yourself are the true and lawful ruler of this principality of Czernova?" "I do." "And to prove your respective contentions, are you each willing to submit to the ordeal of battle?"