There was something so peculiarly aggressive in the duke's manner that an angry retort trembled on Paul's lips. "Did you not receive it from a lady?" Then the truth flashed upon Paul. This signet must have belonged to the duke, inasmuch as it bore his motto. An historic heirloom, it had been given by him to the Princess Natalie, and had been lost by her in the secret passage where Paul had found it. No wonder that Bora was incensed at its re-appearance in this fashion! Jealousy caused him to draw an altogether erroneous conclusion, and unfortunately it was impossible for Paul to set him right without entering into the particulars of his sojourn at Castel Nuovo. "A lady gave you that ring." "There your grace errs." "That's a lie," cried Bora savagely. "Softly, your grace," remonstrated Radzivil, glancing nervously around. "Let us have no scandal in public." With difficulty Paul restrained his anger. "Your grace's language is extremely offensive, but I am willing to make all allowances. I do not wish to quarrel with you. This seal was not given to me by a lady. I found it, and you claim it as yours. I am quite willing to restore it." Bora took Paul's self-restraint for cowardice. "You found it? Where? When? Under what circumstances?" "Those are questions that I must decline to answer." "You refuse?" "Most certainly." "Then you shall fight me." Paul, thoroughly roused by the duke's arrogant manner, was not at all averse to accepting this challenge. Then he thought of Barbara. The affair could not be hidden. She would learn that his first act on coming into Czernova was to fight a duel with her future consort. He would thus appear in her eyes as a brawling swashbuckler presuming on her affection to protect him from the consequences of his acts. "No, your grace, I shall not fight," he replied quietly. "Finding it easier to meet Afghans than a Czernovese," sneered Bora. "Have you ever noticed, Radzivil, how brave these English are against all the savage races of the world,--how reluctant to face the European? If you will not fight I cannot, of course, compel you. But I can at least brand you as a coward." And lifting the cane that he carried he brought it down heavily across Paul's cheek. "Your grace!" exclaimed Radzivil, and filled with disgust and anger he walked away to the far end of the balcony. The bronze had faded from Paul's face leaving it deadly white save for a livid stripe on the left cheek. "Will you fight me now?" said the duke with a sneering smile and raising his cane again, "or does your cowardice require a further stimulus?" "Fight you? Yes, by heaven!" said Paul, with a deep inspiration. "Send your second here without delay to meet mine. I hold no further parley with you. My sword shall speak for me." A gleam of ferocious joy passed over the duke's face. "My second shall attend yours within an hour. But first a caution to Radzivil. He hath too talkative a tongue, and this matter must be kept secret."